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J umber 21 January 1, 189 7 

EVANGELINE 

A TALE OF ACADIE 

BY 

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
BY EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr., PH.D. 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

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UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

NEW YORK and NEW ORLEANS. - 



STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES 

EYANQELIN^E 

A TALE OF AOADIE 

BY / 

HENKY WADSWOKTH LONGFELLOW 



EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

EDWARD EVERETT HALE, Jr., Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND LOGIC IN UNION COLLEGE 



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'V 



UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 
NEW YORK, BOSTON AND NEW ORLEANS 



Copyright, 1897, by 
UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 



"* 1836 



Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
Aster Place, New York 



CONTENTS. 

THE MAN AND THE POEM. 

PAGE 

I. Longfellow as a Poet 5 

a. Biographical Note 5 

b. Poetic Character ........ 6 

11. Evangeline 11 

a. Character and Subject 11 

b. The Historic Facts 12 

c. The Metre . . ♦ 16 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. For a Cursory Reading 20 | 

II. For a More Careful Reading 21 ' I 

a. Further Study of the Story 22 ; 

b. Study of the Characters 22 

c. Memorizing 25 I 

III. For Textual Study 25 1 

a. Allusions 26 ] 

b. Imagery 26 I 

c. Words 26 j 

d. Structure of the Poem 27 I 

e. Grammatical Study 27 

EVANGELINE : A Tale of Acadie. 

Part the First 31 i 

Part the Second 66 j 

I 



INTRODUCTION TO EYANGELINB. 

THE MAN AND THE POEM. 
I. Longfellow as a Poet. 

a. Biographical Note. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, Me., 
February 27, 1807. He passed his earlier days in that seaport 
tc)wn, and at the age of fourteen went to Bowdoin College. As 
ho neared the end of his college course, he desired more and more 
to devote himself to literature as a profession. Very fortu- 
nately, just about the time of his graduation, a professorship of 
modern languages was established at Bowdoin. To this position 
he was af)pointed, but first he took some years' leave of absence to 
travel abroad and fit himself more completely for his work. The 
years 1826-1829 he spent in Europe studying literature and the 
languages in the chief Continental nations. From 1829 to 1835 
he remained at Bowdoin ; in the latter year he was called to 
Harvard College as professor of modern languages. Again he 
went abroad before beginning his work, and spent some further 
time in study. In 1836 he took up his duties at Harvard. He 
lived the rest of his life' in Cambridge, devoted to his college 
work and to literature. 

He had early shown that he was to become a poet, a man of 
letters, as well as a scholar. In 1833 he published a book written 
partly during his travels, called "Outre Mer " (Beyond the Sea), 
a book not unlike Irving's " Sketch-Book " (1820), but devoted to 
France and Germany. In 1839, after his second journey, he 
published "Hyperion," a book full of the spirit of Germany and 



6 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

Switzerland. These books were in prose, but late in the same 
year as the last, Longfellow published also "Voices of the 
Night," a volume of poems, partly made up of translations and 
partly of his own verses. More characteristic of the poet, how- 
ever, — as though he were but slowly discovering his real powder, 
—were " Ballads and Other Poems " (1841), and " The Belfry of 
Bruges" (1845), which contain some of his best known shorter 
poems. In 1847 came "Evangeline" (see p. 9); in 1849 " Kava- 
nagh," a novel; and in 1850 another collection of poems, called 
"The Seaside and the Fireside." 

In 1854 he resigned his professorship at Harvard to devote him- 
self wholly to literature. He was now living with his wife '■ 
and four children in the well-known Craigie House in Cam- 
bridge, and here he lived till his death, gradually taking the 
])osition of chief and best loved poet of America. He had sor- 
rows and griefs, as must every one, some very bitter ; his wife 
died under very painful circumstances. For the most part, how- 
ever, he lived calmly and happily until his death, March 24, 1882. 
Following up his interest in American subjects, he published in 
1855 "Hiawatha," a poem of Indian legend; in 1857, "The,. 
Courtship of Miles Standish " ; in 1863 came "Tales of nWt^j- 
side Inn " ; in 1872, " Christus " ; in the last ten years of his life, 
"The Hanging of the Crane " (1874), "The Masque of Pandora "S 
(1875), "Keramos" (1878), "Ultima Thule " (1880). We mustl 
note also his translation of Dante's "Divine Comedy," which > 
appeared in 1867, exhibiting his power not only as a poet but as a | 
scholar. 

b. Poetic Character. 

We may easily learn what were the main events in the life of 
Longfellow, where he lived, what was his work, what he wrote. 
But we must always remember that with a poet these things are 
only of minor importance. We wish to learn them that we may 
not be ignorant of the life of one we respect and admire ; we have 
about Longfellow's life the same curiosity that we have about the 
lives of any of our friends. We like to know what they are 
doing, how they are living. But with a friend, though we are 
interested in the record of his goings and comings, of the places 

' His secontl wife. His first wife had died during bis second journey abroad. 



LONGFELLOW — POETIC CHARACTER. 7 

where he has lived, and of the work that he has done, we never 
make the mistake of thinking that such a record is our friend. 

So with a poet, only to a greater degree. All sorts of things 
about a poet interest us. We like to know how he looked, what 
sort of house he lived in, what he said and did, and all these 
things are good as finishing touches. The interest in them is 
natural, if we love the work of the poet. But they should never 
seem, to us very important and they should never obscure from us 
the real thing the poet has for us. 

Now what is it that Longfellow has for us ? What has any 
poet for us ? What is a poet ? 

A poet is an artist who expresses himself in words, in poetry, 
in a particular way. But, as an artist, he is a soul of the same 
kind as the painter, the sculptor, the musician. An artist is a 
man who discovers the beauty of the world ; it may have been 
hidden from the ordinary eye until he came, but just because it is 
beauty, we know it and love it when he shows it to us. 

If then a poet is such a man, if he has so much for us, if he is 
one who can show us Beauty in this world of ours, which we are 
so used to that we too often hurry through it without thinking of 
it as anything more than a railroad track on which to reach 
Money, Success, Honor ; if he can do this for us, how foolish to 
bother ourselves about minor matters, except as all minor matters 
are of interest to us concerning anj^one whom we love and honor. 

Anyone whom we love and honor, I say — for that is what a 
poet should be to us ; he should be a friend to us, an older and 
wiser friend, of nobler and finer nature than our own, but one 
who will gladly, willingly, give us of his best. 

So then of Longfellow especially, what is it that he has given 
us ? What can we say of his poetry ? 

We shall think rightly of Longfellow's poetry if we remember 
what it was to the American people of his time. Longfellow 
served to awaken and kindle the taste and feeling of the American 
people for what was poetic and beautiful. Not that no one in 
America had enjoyed poetry and beauty before Longfellow, — far 
from that. But no one had expressed it in America as he ex- 
pressed it ; we had no great poets before Longfellow. Indeed, as 
a people, we had very little poetic appreciation. Longfellow was 
a sort of Apostle. He showed us much. He was a Discoverer in 



8 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

our behalf ; a Discoverer, as I have said, of the Beautiful in life. 
So he was a great educator ; he attuned the mind of our people to 
the beautiful and the ideal. 

Something of the same sort is Longfellow apt to be to every- 
one of us. We all read Longfellow early in life, often in school, 
before we have read much else, before we have seen much of this 
world that the poets write of. It is an impressionable age. 
Longfellow moulds our taste. He delights us, and it is from him 
that we learn a kind of delight different from the ordinary pleas- 
ures of life. He is simple and direct. We read his beautiful 
verse without difficulty ; it seems natural, and we become habitu- 
ated to poetic thought and to poetic form. Later in life, if we 
desire, we may pass from his exquisite and gracious mood to poets 
of a more profound or a more passionate nature. But Longfel- 
low never loses his place with us. He is the guide who first led 
us to the enchanted country, the interpreter who first made us 
understand its language. 

At first Longfellow was fascinated by the beauty and romance 
of the Old World, nor did this interest ever leave him. He read 
much in old-world literature and travelled in foreign countries. 
Their old legends and traditions were a delight to him. Chron- 
icles, romances, tales, these had always the strongest attraction 
for Longfellow, and many are the poems inspired by his love of 
far and foreign lands. Translations from foreign languages, 
poems of foreign places, and, most of all, romantic tales from old- 
world liistory or traditions — these were at first the favorite 
themes for Longfellow's poetry. How many such poems are 
familiar to you, — "The Legend Beautiful," " Sandalphon, " 
' ' King Robert of Sicily, " ' ' King Olaf . " 

There is one among them which is particularly interesting, 
" The Skeleton in Armor." You know that there was found ^ an 
actual skeleton clad in the rusty remains of armor. To Longfel- 
low, full of the romance of the North, the discovery called up at 
once the picture of the sea robber; his imagination created the 
bride for whom had been built the bower which, as he would 
have it, still stands looking seaward in the city of Newport. 

The poet's imagination reaches out from the Old World to the 

1 At Fall River, Mass. 



LONGFELLOW — POETIC CHARACTER. 9 

New, and connects them in his Romance. Not only the romance 
of the Old World, but of the New, is to be his theme. ^ This poem, 
joinmg" the two, stands significantly among his earlier works and 
brings us to another and a far more important division of his 
work. 

He introduces us to the romance of foreign lands and olden 
times. But have we not always known that distant lands were 
strange lands and that olden times were good times ? We need 
little persuasion to find beauty and delight and charm in the 
legend of monkish tradition, in the lay of the singer of long ago, 
or in quaint old German towns or fascinating Spanish cities. All 
this Longfellow gives us ; but more important than this, he dis- 
covers to us the poetry in our own land, and even in our own 
time. A true American, he could not, as a true poet, be content 
with forever imagining and fancying the romance and charm 
of life in foreign lands ; as an American, the history of his own 
country called him. 

It was in the year 184:7 that " Evangeline " was written. Long- 
fellow heard the story from Mr. Conolly, a friend of Hawthorne's, 
when the three were dining together in Cambridge. Mr. Conolly 
ha,d suggested it to Hawthorne as the subject for a story, but Haw- 
thorne did not feel moved to write anything. On Longfellow, 
however, the tale made a deep impression, and he asked his friend "^ 
if he had meant to write anything on it. Hawthorne said " No," 
and Longfellow took the idea himself. 

If he ever wondered whether a simple story, chosen from Amer- 
ican history, could be as popular as his tales from foreign romance, 
his doubts were at once laid at rest. There is no other one of 
Longfellow's poems, no tale of Germany, Spain, or the far North, 
that has achieved the fame of this idyll ; no story of monk, or 
knight, or lady, that touches us as does this of the simple farmer's 
girl. It is said that one sure note of the beautiful in art is that 
the image rises before us again and again, when we no longer 



1 May 3, 1838, some time before the poem with Btorm-spirits and devil-machinery 

appeared, he wrote in his diary, " I have under water. New England ballads I have 

been looking at the old Northern Sagas, and long thought of. This seems to be an 

thinking of a series of ballads or a roman- introduction." 

tic poem on the deeds of the first bold ^ Longfellow and Hawthorne had been in 

viking who crossed to this western world, the same class at Bowdoin. 



10 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

have the work with us, and always with satisfaction and delight. 
If that be so, how beautiful is "Evangeline" ! For we rarely 
think of Longfellow without the thought coming to our mind of 
that pathetic, almost tragic, figure of the wanderer, first plunged 
in grief — then patient — then resigned. 

It is curious to think of Hawthorne and Longfellow together; 
the contrast between the two does much to show us more clearly 
what was the character of our great poet. As we read Hawthorne, 
we seem to be leading a brooding and secluded life, a life that 
permits a little intense observation of the world outside, but which 
takes in its impressions and submits them to some mysterious 
alchemy whereby all becomes dun-colored and gray, though here 
and there shot with some rich dash of magnificence — a life where 
we dimly perceive unerring and inevitable causes, where the 
springs of action are vaguely apparent, sometimes clearer, some- 
times less clear. But we live as in an old library in a vast and 
gloomy house in the midst of an old, neglected garden, shut away 
from tlie street by rows of pine-trees. 

But Longfellow — Longfellow is very different. As we read the 
volume of his verse, we seem to be living a sweet and gracious 
life, each day bringing with it some tliought for poetic meditation 
and joy. One day it is a recollection of olden time beyond the 
sea, — of the splendid life at Bruges, of the quaint old town of 
Nuremberg ; sometimes it is something here at home, the sum- 
mer's rain that quickens our thought, or the river Charles that 
hows beyond the fields that lie at the foot of the lawn ; sometimes 
we stand on the Bridge by night and watch the swift-flowing 
river beneath. Or sometimes it may be that day after day passes 
in thought of some longer tale, perhaps "Evangeline," or "Hia- 
watha," while sometimes there comes a more serious thought or a 
sterner flash of indignation at some tale of wrong. But always 
our poet's mind has made the thought beautiful: nothing is harsh, 
discordant, disjointed, disturbing, inharmonious, jangling. It is 
always- melodious, as of some distant song; it is gentle like the 
winds in the pines of summer ; it is grateful like the night after a 
parching day. 



CHARACTER AND SUBJECT. 11 

II. Evangeline. 
a. Character ayid Subject. 

"Evangeline " is a narrative poem ; it tells a story. Narrative 
poetry is generally the first kind of poetry to arise among a 
people. It is simpler and easier to understand tlian some other 
kinds of poetry; and it appeals to a very general interest, the love 
of a story. The "Iliad" and the "Odyssey" are of tlie highest 
type of narrative poetry, and they arose among a rude and only 
partly civilized people. 

Tliese two great poems are called epics ; but all narrative 
poems are not epics, although the name "epic poetry" is often 
used meaning no more than narrative poetry as distinct from 
dramatic x^oetry or lyric poetry. There are many kinds of narra- 
tive poetry. There are Fables, short tales with a moral. There 
are Ballads, which often deal with short stories of adventure. 
There are Tales in verse, sometimes romantic, sometimes humor- 
ous. " Evangeline " is what is called an Idyll. 

The word Idyll comes from a Greek word meaning originally 
"a little picture." The name was given, however, so often to 
short narrative poems giving pictures of simple country life that 
it has now a somewhat different meaning — an Idyll is now gen- 
erally understood to be a narrative poem of no very great length, 
of a simple, j^astoral, homely character, relying for its effect upon 
the gentle emotions it calls up and on its descriptions of natural 
scenes. ' 

In reading the poem of ' ' Evangeline " we shall do well to think 
particularly about some of its qualities and characteristics ; to 
think of some of the things that please us, that we may enjoy 



1 Tennyson in his "Idylls of the King" character. These two great poets have done 

uses the word in a somewhat different something to give a new meaning to the 

sense : his themes are not simple, pastoral, word. Generally, howe\'er, when we say 

homely ; they are romantic, glittering, pas- " idyllic " we mean something more like 

sionate. Browning also, in his " Dramatic "Evangeline," something romantic, but 

Idyls," does not hold closely to the old sweet, tender, natural, dealing generally with 

signification ; the poems grouped under this love and often with sorrow, 
name have rarely any simple and pastoral 



12 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

them the more. The poet himself, at the beg-inning of the poem, 
gives us an idea of the kind of tale that he is to relate : 

** Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, 
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, 
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest ; 
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy." 

Evangeline's affection, hopeful and patient of much suffering, 
her devotion, strong and beautiful, this is the theme of the poem, 
this is the idea embodied in the tradition on which the story is 
based. Ask yourselves where Evangeline's devotion appears best 
presented ; think of her devotion to her father as well as to her 
lover. Find examples of her hopes, of her endurance of sorrow. 
When I think of her I am apt also to think of another well-known 
figure famous for love, devotion, patience, another poor girl who 
went on a hard journey, though not so long as Evangeline's and 
with happier end, the figure of Jeanie Deans in "The Heart of Mid- 
Lothian." But each one will think of Longfellow's heroine in 
his own way ; the thing that is important is, that we realize the 
story, make it real to us, and that we appreciate as far as we are 
able the poetic character of the tradition. 

b. The Historic Facts. 

In the case of this poem we must also know a little about the 
historic facts with which the poem deals, for although the tale of 
Evangeline and her lover is, as Longfellow says, a ' ' mournful 
tradition," yet the main outlines of the banishment of the Aca- 
dians and their wide dispersion are matters of history. 

All through the first half of the eighteenth century the French 
colonies in Canada, and the English colonies in what is now the 
United States, were constantly at war. 

The home countries were at war during 1697-1713 (War of the 
Spanish Succession), and 1740-1748 (War of the Austrian Succes- 
sion), and 1756-1763 (Seven Years' War), and, of course, at these 
times the colonies went to war also ; in colonial history these 
wars were called Queen Anne's War, King George's War, and the 
French and Indian War. Even in times of formal peace, how- 



THE HISTOEIC FACTS. 



13 



ever, there were often hostilities. America was not large enough 
for the French and the English too ; one side had to conquer the 
other. The Acadians were French by descent; and Acadia, or 
Nova Scotia, had been French by settlement and possession until 
1713, when, at the close of Queen Anne's War, it was ceded to 
England. 

The English did not at once settle in the country, nor assume 
regular control over the Acadians, who got into the habit of regard- 




MAP SHOWING 

EVANGELINE'S HOME 
IN "ACADIE" 



ing themselves as neutrals, being French in sympathy, but Eng- 
lish in law. If it had been a time of peace they might perhaps 
have so remained ; but as it was, in the hostilities that were every 
now and again breaking out between the French and English 
colonies in America, the Acadians found it harder and harder to 
maintain their neutral position. The English to the south looked 
upon them with suspicion, the French to the north would have 
been glad of their assistance. The Acadians refused to take the 
oath of allegiance to the King of England (cf. 1. 456), and they 
were thought, with some reason, to have aided the French and 



14 INTKODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

Indians in tlieir raids upon New England. They were, in fact, a 
constant menace to the colonies to the south ; not that as a people 
they had hostile designs, but they would not make themselves 
assured friends, and there were some among them who were only 
waiting for an opportunity to separate themselves from the Eng- 
lish, who differed from them in race and religion. 

The New England colonies saw that unless some severe meas- 
ures were taken Nova Scotia could not be saved to England, and 
that Nova Scotia should remain English was necessary to the 
safety of New England. It was resolved, not by England but by 
New England, that the Acadians should be dispossessed of their 
country. At the particular time, the English settlers were in 
alarm at Braddock's defeat. It was a harsh act, but it seemed to be 
an act necessary to self-preservation. Not only must the Acadians 
be taken from Acadie, but they could not be allowed to retire to 
the friendly colonies, thereby to strengthen the power of England's 
enemies. They must be brought to the English colonies and scat- 
tered among them, lest, being together, they should do some harm. 
About six thousand Acadians were taken from their homes and 
sent to the various English colonies ; about three thousand five 
hundred escaped and found their way to Canada. The act seems 
to have been one of the horrible necessities of war. Doubtless it 
is no more to be justified on that account than is the slaughter of 
many times six thousand in one great battle ^ ; but, on the whole, 
not much more brutal or inhuman. When we read ' ' Evangeline, " 
we need not feel fiercely toward the English (or, more exactly, 
toward the New Englanders), as if they had devised an unpro- 
voked act of pure cruelty. The Acadians were many of them 
secret enemies, and as a people they would not give the necessary 
assurance of being trustworthy friends. 

Another historical point we must recollect. If you trace Evan- 
geline's wanderings on a map, you will see that the line wanders 
over the United States from east to west and from south to north. 
But you must remember that at the time that Evangeline wandered 
over those vast regions the Thirteen Colonies, and after them the 
United States, held only the narrow territory between the Alle- 
ghanies and the sea. Their claims extended far to the west, but 

1 As Waterloo, for instance, or Gettysburg, where more than fifty thousand were killed 
or wounded on both sides. 



THE HISTORIC FACTS. 



16 



their settlements were confined to a narrower compass. There- 
fore when Evangeline went to Louisiana she met Basil, who had 
almost become a Spanish herdsman (see note on 1. 997), and when 
she wandered in the Rocky Mountains it was a French priest 



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(1. 1189) whom she met at the mission in the Ozark Mountains, 
and with French guides (1. 1234) that she sought Gabriel in Michi- 
gan. One word more should be said of the fortunes of the Aca- 
dians. As time went on, a few of them found their way back to 
their old homes, as we hear in the last lines of the poem. But a 
larger number (among them Basil of the poem) found their way 



16 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

to Louisiana, which, although then belonging to Spain, was still 
French in feeling. Here they were well received by those of 
their own language and religion. They found homes, as the poet 
tells us, in the fertile country by the river Teche, where they 
settled comfortably and permanently. ' ' Their descendants are to 
be found in every parish of lower Louisiana," writes Alcee For- 
tier. ' ' They form an important and useful part of our population. " 
Although a simple farming people, they have had some men 
of eminence in the state, and their lot has been by no means 
miserable. 

c. The Metres 

When you begin to read poetry aloud, you become aware that 
one of the great differences between poetry and prose lies in what 
is called metre. Another difference lies in rhyme ; but although 
rhyme is common in poetry, it is not necessary. Much of the 
world's greatest poetry has no rhyme. The poetry of the Greeks 
and Romans had none; the poetry of the Hebrews had none. 
Much English poetry has none, as, for example, "Evangeline." 
Modern English poetry, however, almost invariably has metre. 

Metre is practically but another name for rhythm in poetry. 
We use the word " rhythm " for other things than poetry ; we 
mean by it a regular recurrence of sounds and intervals. We 
might speak of " the rhythm of the surf upon the beach," meaning 
the regularly recurring sound of the breakers. In poetry the 
regular recurrence is called metre or rhythm, the former being a 
more definite word. 

In English, rhythm is the regular recurrence of accented syl- 
lables among unaccented syllables. In prose the accent of the 
words is not regular ; the accents in a sentence come at no fixed 
interval. But in poetry the accents come at intervals that we can 
realize. 

" On the Mountains of the Prairie, on the great Red Pipe-stone 
Quarry, Gitche Manito the Mighty, he the Master of Life descending, on 
the red crags of the quarry, stood erect and called the nations, called 
the tribes of men together. ' ' 

1 If the pupils cannot understand this matter readily, the teacher, at least, should study 
it carefully and explain it to them. 



THE METKE. 17 

In these lines from Longfellow's " Hiawatha," the fact that they 
are printed as prose will not conceal from you the fact that the 
accent falls regularly on every other syllable, beginning with the 
hrst. Sometimes it is not a very strong accent, as in the fourth 
word, of ; but even on of there is more accent than on the sylla- 
bles -tains and the just before and after it. In Master of Life there 
are two syllables between the accents, but generally the recurrence 
is so regular that we become accustomed to it and liardly notice a 
slight variation. It is usual in writing and printing poetry to 
divide it into lines, connnonly with an equal number of accents 
in each line, and the disposition of the accents in the line is taken 
as the basis for the metre. 

There are many different arrangements of rhythms, differing in 
the arrangement of the accented and unaccented syllables. The 
metre of " Evangeline " is called hexameter, because there are six 
accents to the line. In the hexameter, as wi'itten in English, we 
have a recurrence of accented syllables, with sometimes one 
unaccented syllable following, sometimes two. It is also the rule 
of the metre that the line shall begin with an accented syllable, 
and that the last accent but one of each line shall be followed by 
two unaccented sjdlables^ and the last by one only. If then we 
represent an accented syllable by a, an unaccented sjdlable by a?, 
we may write the scheme of the hexameter line as follows : 

ax or axx, ax or axx^ ax or axx, ax or axx, axx, ax. 

To show how the metre really sounds, let us take the first line 
of "Evangeline": 

"This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks." 

The first syllable has the accent, and each accented syllable is 
followed by two unaccented syllables, excej)t the last, \vhicli has 
only one. 

"Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight." 

Here the third accent also is followed by one unaccented syllable 
only, garments green. 

1 For an exception, see 1, p. 19, 



18 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

"Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic." 

Here the first, third, and fourth accents, as well as the last, have 
but one unaccented syllable following. If we write the first three 
lines with a and x as above, they would go : 

axx axx axx axx axx ax 
axx axx ax axx axx ax 
ax axx ax ax axx ax 

Eead a number of lines, noting the accent. You will find it falls 
on the syllables that would be accented in prose, but that the 
words are so arranged as to have this regular recurrence, which 
gives the language a special character. 
Notice a few pgints : 

1. In 1. 623. 

" Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred housetops." 
axx axx ax axx ax ax. 

The fifth accent has but one unaccented syllable after it. So it is 
also in 11. 489, 812, 953, 1106. Otherwise, the end of each line is 
always the same, axx ax, leaving the beginnings for variation. 

2. There is almost always something of a pause about the 
middle of a line, which gives a pleasant effect ; it is called a caesura. 
The line is long; this divides it. But the variation in placing the 
pause does away with monotony. 

3. You must not mark the ends of the lines strongly unless 
there is a punctuation mark. 

"Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung 
Over his shoulders." 11. 270, 271. 

Here, as often, you must run right on from one line to another. 

4. Sometimes the marking of the end of the verse gives a special 
effect: 

"So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock 
clicked." 1. 217. 

Compare 1. 274. 



THE METRE. 19 

When you have become accustomed to the movement, you will 
find it not at all difficult except in some few cases. The metre, 
however, has some inconveniences, the most important of which 
arise from the fact that the line must begin with an accent. Now 
an English sentence sometimes begins with an accent, but rather 
more often it does not. You will easily notice, by reading a good 
number of sentences, that less than half begin with an accented 
syllable. Hence the poet will often find a difficulty in beginning 
the line with a sentence, and yet he may often wish to do so. 
Longfellow gets around the difficulty in three ways, none good 
in their effect. 

1. He puts an unnatural accent on the first word. 

**But among all who came young Gabriel only was welcome." 1. 114. 

In prose we should not accent But, but the second syllable of 
amo7ig. 

2. He inverts the usual word-order. 

*' White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak- 
leaves." 1. 64. 

Inversion is often met with in poetry, and is not displeasing. 
Here, however, seven lines (62-68) begin with an inversion, which 
becomes unnatural. It is better when it occurs seldom. Then it 
gives emphasis, as in 

"Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep- voiced neighboring ocean." 1. 5. 

But when often used it ceases to be emphatic ; for we get used to 
it, and it becomes a conventionality. 

3. He begins a sentence or a clause in the middle of the line, 
and lets it run over into the next. In itself there is no harm in 
this practice, but it tends to diffuseness. That is to say, the habit 
of running the sentence over the line to the next, tends to accus- 
tom one to ending a sentence in the middle of a line. It is then 
necessary to begin a new sentence, and this usually runs over 
into the next line, and so the temptation is to run on and on, and 
spin the story out. 

These, however, are but slight drawbacks and will not greatly 
bar your enjoyment of the poem. 



20 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 

It is well to read the poem several times ; one would get but a 
slight idea of it by reading it only once. A true classic improves 
on each reading, and one may go over it again and again, and 
always find some new pleasure. According as there is time for a 
cursory reading only, or for a more careful reading with, per- 
haps, some critical study, the following suggestions are divided 
into three heads. If thei'e is time only for a rapid reading, the 
points suggested in I. Q^p. 20, 21) should be followed ; if there is 
time, II. (pp. 21-25) should be added; while if it be advisable to go 
on to textual study, some suggestions will be found in III. 
(pp. 25-27). 

I. For a Cursory Eeading. 

In reading the poem for the first time, you should try (a) to 
read it aloud well and pleasantly, and (6) to get a good under- 
standing and appreciation of the story. You will find that you 
cannot read it easily and pleasantly without some knowledge of 
the metre, but the few pages (16-19) on the subject, already given, 
will be enough to give you an idea of that. With a little prac- 
tice you will find no difficulty. 

The second matter is even easier. " Evangeline '' is a simple 
story, and by no means hard to follow. It is a good plan to write 
down, as you go along, the substance of each part. To give an 
abstract of the whole story is a more difficult matter ; it must be 
so compressed, it is so necessary to mention only the truly 
important things, that it is by no means easy.^ It is not hard, 
however, to tell what happens in each part, and as you read each 
part you may write the story of it in prose, and finally put all 
the parts together. A i^articular part might be something like 
this : 



1 R. L. Stevenson gives a good example in his account of the story of "Kidnapped, 
prefixed to " David Balfour.'' 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 21 

THE ACADIANS IN LOUISIANA. 
{Part 11.^ Sectio7i III.) 

After a long journey clown the Ohio and the Mississippi, Evan- 
geline and Father Felician reached a part of the country where 
many of the Acadians had found refuge. It was in Louisiana, 
out of the dominions of the hated English. Here they were 
received joyfully by Basil, now no longer a smith but a ranch- 
man, and owner of great herds of cattle. But from him they 
learned, to their immense disappointment, that Gabriel, becoming 
more and more restless, had finallj^ started off on a long excursion 
to the north, hunting and trapping — had even passed them on the 
river as they slept. But Basil bids them take courage— on the 
morrow they Avill follow him. Friends come in, old neighbors, 
among them Michael the fiddler, and the evening is spent in a 
joyous feast. Only Evangeline wanders forth in the evening with 
melancholy longing. On the morrow they start forth, but they 
cannot overtake Gabriel. They reach the Spanish town which 
had been his destination, only to find that he had come and gone 
on the day before. 

When you have written several of these abstracts, you will find 
that you are quite familiar with the story. Your abstracts should 
give in a shorter form the same story as the poem, but should not 
mention or refer to the poem itself, or to the poet. They should 
be simple and direct, but as lively and interesting as possible. It 
is well not to use the present tense throughout. Titles may be 
given each part as above. 



II. For a More Careful Reading. 

In reading the poem a second time, (a) a little more care may be 
given to each part to see just what place it holds in the poem, 
what relation it has to the other parts; (b) we may well study 
tlie characters somewhat; and (c) it is a good plan to memorize 
some of the passages. 



22 INTRODUCTIOK TO EVANGELINE. 



a. Further Study of the Story. 

As to the further study of the poem, part by part. Let us 
look at the part of which we have already spoken, Bk. II., Pt. III. 
We may notice : 

1. It begins with a description (11. 888-910 * ) of forest and farm 
which you may compare with that in the beginning of the poem 
(11. 20-36, 82-102). Some of the Acadians have found a comfort- 
able, happy resting-place. Basil praises it highly (11. 986-998) ; it 
is beautiful and romantic, but we feel the difference between its 
luxurious and tropical charm and the simple old heartiness of 
Grand-Pre. 

2. Basil, too, has changed from the village smith who made 
horseshoes while the children looked on, who played checkers 
with Benedict in the winter evenings ; he has become the half- 
Spanish herdsman of the Southwest, most at home on his horse 
looking after his immense herds of cattle. 

3. Here is the first real disappointment. In Part II., Section I., 
we are told that Evangeline had long sought Gabriel. In the next 
section we see how they missed each other, but in ignorance. 
Here we have the first picture of actual disappointment. Here 
the poet is more detailed and particular than in the next section, 
which, in rapid narration, recounts the future fruitless search. 
Here he brings strongly before us the keen disappointment of 
Evangeline by recalling to our minds the happier time when she 
and Gabriel were together. (Compare 11. 1026-1058 with 11. 369- 
381.) 

Such things as this give us something of an idea of the fulness 
of interest that the poem has. Every part has something to be 
noticed, and now that you have already read the poem through 
once, you will have a better idea of what each point means. 

b. Study of the Characters. 

We may also study in a little more detail the characters. It 
is better to begin with one of the minor characters. The full 
appreciation of the character of Evangeline requires a fuller 

1 The teacher ie advised to be careful to It does much to give a habit of accuracy, too 
see that the pupil be always able to point often thought needless in the study of liter- 
out just the passage that he is speaking of. ature. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 28 

knowledge of the poem than we now have. Take rather for 
.study, Basil, Benedict Belief ontaine. Father Felician, or Leblanc. 
! One may study a character in various ways ; here are several : 

1. Gather together all that the poet says of any particular 
character, summarizing each mention. Let us take Leblanc. 

11. 268-273. His personal appearance. 

273-275. He was father and grandfather. 

275-277. He had been friendly to the English. 

277-279. He was unsuspicious and straightforward, though 

warier as the years went on. 
279-287. His fund of folk-lore. 

293-297. He answers Basil modestly and without suspicion. 
301-325. He illustrates his assurance that right will prevail, 

by his favorite story. 
334, 340. We have something of his manner. 
711. His son Baptiste is mentioned. 

1260, 1261. He dies in Philadelphia, with but one of his many 
children at his side. 

These are the facts that the poet gives us: now to turn them 
into a short sketch. 

FATHER LEBLANC. 

A figure who might be taken as in himself a sufficient example 
of the Acadian people and of the misery caused by their separa- 
tion is Rene Leblanc, the old notary. He lived in assured com- 
fort in the old village, known and loved, in the midst of a great 
family ; he died almost alone in a great city, his children and 
grandchildren scattered and far away from him. Unsuspicious 
and guileless, perhaps credulous, he had still a dignity and firm- 
ness which made him respected as well as loved. Though old and 
bent with age, he liad the simplicity of the children who loved 
to hear his stories and to listen to his watch. He believed in right 
and truth, and doubtless he bore misfortune when it came with- 
out murmuring. Not wholly like his own i^eople was he in his 
friendship for tlie English ; but he was involved in the common 
exile. 



24 INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 

The same course should be followed with some other character. 

2. After we have well in mind what the poet tells us of one or 
another, it is often interesting to think a little of what kind of 
character is presented to us, and here we may be helped by- 
remembering other characters we may know of. Let us take 
Father Felician. the village priest. There are many presentations 
in literature of the character of the good i^astor. Probably the 
most famous are tliose of Chaucer in the Prologue to the ' ' Canter- 
bury Tales'' (11. 477-528), and of Goldsmith in "The Deserted 
Village '^ (11. 137-192) and in "The Vicar of Wakefield." » The 
word Pastor meant originally Shepherd (cf. 1. 857) ; it will be 
good to read what the Good Shepherd says of himself in John x. 
1-5 and 10-17, and also to compare what Milton says of bad 
shepherds in "Lycidas," 11. 113-129. 

Now, can you find elsewhere the character of the smith to com- 
pare with Basil ? Perhaps you will think of another poem of 
Longfellow, and perhaps you have read Sir Walter Scott's ' ' Fair 
Maid of Perth." 

3. Often a poet will present two characters so contrasted to- 
gether that each will bring out more strongly the individuality of 
the other. In Evangeline we liave the liearty farmer Benedict 
Bellefontaine and the stout smith Basil Lajeunesse, dear friends; 
but, as is often tlie case with friends, men of very different stamp. 
What difference in character is shown by their occupations? Does 
the poet show any differences by the adjectives lie applies to them, 
by the way he makes them speak and act ? What difference is 
shown by their thoughts as to the coming of the British ? W^hy is it 
Basil, not Benedict, who protests in the church ? What happens 
to each ? How does each bear misfortune ? Is anything indicated 
by the difference in character between Benedict's prosperity in 
Acadia and Basil's in Louisiana ? Look up the passages in the 
poem that give the answers to such questions, and you will have 
material for a good comparison. Then see if there is opportunity 
for any other good comparisons. 

1 If the pupils cannot readily read these will also be interesting to compare 11. 341-406 
references, the teacher should read them or with 11.533-665 of " Evangeline," and see 
tell of them. In " The Deserted Village " it which is best liked. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 25 



c. Memorizing. 

Beside this study of the story and the characters, it is well 
on a second reading to choose good passages of the poem and to 
memorize them. Sometimes two or three lines will be enough, 
as 11. 351, 352, or 781-785, but it is good also to know longer pas- 
sages, like the very beginning, 11. 1-19, or 11. 280-287, 11. 170-191, 
11. 1089-1100. It is best for the students, with some guidance, to 
choose the passages for themselves, and if possible to give good 
reasons for what they clioose. 

After the second reading is the right time for a little study of 
the poet's life and character, and the place of our poem in his life. 
The pupils may study pages 5-12 of this introduction : the teacher 
should explain the historic facts, or let the pupils study pages 
12-16. 



III. For Textual Study. 

We may now turn our attention to a number of minor mat- 
ters. If we had considered them at first, our attention might 
easily have been distracted from things more im])ortant. But 
now that we can read the poem pleasantly and rightly, now that 
we have thought over the story and the characters, now that we 
know something of the author and of how the poem was writ- 
ten — now we can study all the little things that go to give us a 
full understanding and appreciation of the poet's thoughts. We 
shall want now to look up allusions, to stop and think over par- 
ticular words or figures of speech ; to notice all that is conveyed, 
by arrangement and disposition of the subject matter, in the 
way the poet tells the story ; now and then it will be useful, by 
way of review and to be sure that we always have the meaning, 
to do a little grammatical analysis. Here the teacher must take 
the lead, asking questions and showing the way to find out the 
answers. We give, only as suggestion, a number of questions. 
In this work the notes will be of help, but they are not meant to 
tell everything: one must frequently turn to the dictionary, the 
encyclopedia, and to other books of reference. 



26 INTKODUCTION TO EVANGELINE. 



a. Allusions. 

Explain the italicized words in the following lines or phrases : 

1. ' ' Stand like Druids of eld. " 1. 3. 

2. " the sign of the Scorpion.^' 1. 149. 

3. '' Louisburg is not forgotten^ 1.549. 

4. " From the church no AizgeZiiS sounded." 1.589. 

5. ' ' There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his 
sheepfold." 1. 858. 

6. " No King George of England shall drive you away from 
your homesteads." 1. 997. What does Basil mean here ? 

7. " As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, Uphar- 
sin:' 1. 1044. 

b. Imagery. 

When a poet writes he is constantly seeing resemblances and 
likenesses, and a great part of his poetic beauty is apt to lie in his 
comparisons, or his imagery as it is often called. Sometimes we 
appreciate these comparisons more fully by thinking them over 
and studying them. E.g., 1. 153. This figure is drawn from the 
Bible. Are there any other such in the poem ? What is the 
efi'ect of a biblical comparison ? 

We can easily make a loose distinction between the things of 
Man and the things of Nature. In 11. 442-447 something human 
is compared to something natural, and we can see beauty in the 
comparison. In 908-910 something natural is compared to the 
work of man. 

1. Can you find other examples of these kinds of comparison? 

2. Can you find comparisons in which natural things are com- 
pared to other works of nature (1. 911)? 

3. Can you find some in which man or the things he makes or 
does are compared to other human matters (1. 453) ? 

4. How would you class the figure in 1. 1250? in 1. 1098? 

c. Words. 

1. Primeval (1. 1). What ideas does the word suggest? 

2. What are dikes (1. 24) ? In what country are they com- 
monest? 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 27 

3. Explain tlie meaning and composition of hamlets (1. 387). 

4. What is the meaning of tocsin (1. 466)? of curfew (1. 354)? 

5. What is the origin of the word dirge (1. 729) ? 

6. Why coast (1. 750) ? The country was not by the sea. 

7. What is an amorpha (1. 1091), and whence the name? 

8. What are mendicant crows (1. 1211)? 

d. Structure of the Poem. 

1. What is suggested by tlie comparison of 11. 369-381 with 
11. 1026-1058? 

2. What is suggested by the comparison of 11. 1381-1399 with 
11. 1-19? 

3. Does the poet speak more particularly, with more detail, in 
II., iii., or in II., iv? What is his reason? 

4. Why should Benedict be the one to die before the departure? 
Why not Basil? 

5. Why in 11. 147-158 does the poet lay stress on the prospects 
of a hard winter? Why does he turn immediately to Indian 
Summer? 

6. In 1. 8 what is the significance of the comparison with the 
roe? 

7. Why does the poet choose Philadelpliia as the scene of his 
conclusion rather than New York or Washington? 

8. What is the significance of the stories of Mowis and Lilinau 
(11. 1138-1149)? 

e. Grammatical Study. 

If it be thought best to give some grammatical study, the best 
kind of work will suggest itself easily to the teacher. Difficult 
sentences should be analyzed, words of which the syntax gives 
trouble may be parsed, the derivation and composition of words 
may be noted. But the points which come up in the daily read- 
ing will be a better guide than any which might be suggested 
here, for they will be more suited to the needs of any given class. 



EVA^^GELINE. 



This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the 

hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss^ and in garments green, indistinct in the 

twilight, 
Stand like Druids ' of eld/ Avith voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar/ with beards that rest on their bosoms. 
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring 

ocean 5 

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the 

forest. 

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that 
beneath it 

Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice 
of the huntsman? 

Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian 
farmers, — 

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the wood- 
lands, 10 

1 priests of ancient Gaul and Britain. 2 of old. 

They performed their religious ceremonies ^ gray-haired harpers. 

iu groves of oak, and the trees, as well as u jj^g ^^jthei-'d cheek, and tresses gray, 

the mistletoe sometimes growing upon them , Seem'd to have known a better day ; 

were regarded by them as sacred. The a wandering Harper, scorn'd and poor, 

name Druid comes ultimately from a Keltic He begg'd his bread from door to door, 

word meaning " magician," but in Keltic And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, 

as in Greek the near resemblance to the tj^^ ^,^^.^^ ^ j^jj^g y^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ j^^^j. „ 

word for "oak" (see 1. 1,257) has given rise „• , ^ .. j. ^ ^ ,r- ^ 7 

. , „ ^- Scott's Lay ot the Last Minstrel. 

to an idea of connection. ^ "^ 



80 EVANGELINE. 

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of ! 
heaven? 

Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever de- 
parted ! 

Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of 
October 

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er 
the ocean. 

Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of 
Grand-Pre.' 15 

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is 
patient. 

Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devo- 
tion, 

List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the 
forest ; 

List to a Tale of Love in Acadie,'' home of the happy. 

1 (pron. graN-pra) French for large words, the diacritical marks are those of 

meadaiv ; a village of Acadia in which some Webster's Dictionary. The nasal sound of 

of the events of the story took place. See n is indicated by n.] 

map. [In the pronunciations of French ^ pron. a'ka-d6. 



PART THE FIRST. 



In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas/ 

Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre 21 

Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the 
eastward. 

Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without 
number. 

Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor 
incessant, 

Shut out the turbulent tides ^; but at stated seasons the flood- 
gates 25 

Opened and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the 
meadows. 

West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and 
cornfields 

Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the 
northward 

Blomidon^ rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains 

Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty At- 
lantic 30 

Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station de- 
scended. 

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village. 

1 a small bay off the eastern part of the and rapidity, rendering navigation in the 

Bay of Fundy, between Nova Scotia and bay very dangerous. 

New Brunswick. •'' a rocky headland or promontory several 

' The Bay of Fundy is remarkable for its hundred feet high at the entrance of the 

high tides. They rise rapidly to the height Basin of Minas. 
of 50 to 60 feet, rushing in with great force 



32 EVANGELINE : 

Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of 
chestnut. 

Such as the peasants of Normandy ' built in the reign of the 
Henries.^ 

Thatched Avere the roofs, with dormer-windows^; and gables 
projecting 35 

Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. 

There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the 
sunset 

Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chim- 
neys. 

Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles' 

Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs^ spinning the golden 

Flax for the gossiping^ looms, whose noisy shuttles within 
doors 41 

Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs 
of the maidens. 

Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the 
children 

Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless 
them. 

Eeverend wali^ed he among them; and up rose matrons and 
maidens, 45 

Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate wel- 
come. 

Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely the 
sun sank 

1 a part of France, bordering the English spinning-wheel, for holding the bunch of 

Channel. It was formerly a distinct province, wool or flax which is to be spun. 

'■^ Kings of France in the sixteenth and * The noise made by the shuttle in weav- 

seventeenth centuries. ing, as it flies from one side of the cloth to 

3 dormer-window, a window set upright the other, is compared to the sound of voices 

in the sloping roof of a house, and usually passing back and forth between persons 

looking into a dormitory (sleeping-room) ; chatting or gossiping. The shuttle is the 

hence the name. instrument with which the weaver passes or 

■* a loose term for jacket or petticoat, shoots the woof (cross threads) from one 

here probably the latter. side of the cloth to the other between the 

6 distaff, a staff or stick attached to a hand warp (threads extending lengthwise), 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 33 

Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the 
belfry 

Softly the Angelas ' sounded, and over the roofs of the village 

Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, 

Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and con- 
tentment. 51 

Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — 

Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free 
from 

Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of re- 
23ublics. 

Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their win- 
dows; 55 

But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the 
owners ; 

There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abun- 
dance. 

Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of 
Minas, 

Benedict Belief ontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Pre, 

Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his house- 
hold, 60 

Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the vil- 
lage. 

Stal worth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters; 

Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow- 
flakes; 

White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as 
the oak-leaves. 

a form of prayer or devotion in the " Angelas Domini " (tlie Angel of the Lord). 

Roman Catholic Church, commemorating In the poem the word refers to the ringing 

the announcement by the Angel Gabriel to of the church bell notifying the hour for the 

Mary that she was to be the mother of prayer, which in many Roman Catholic 

Jesus (Luke i. 28). The devotion in the communities is recited morning, noon, and 

Latin language commences with the words evening, every day. 
3 



34 EVANGELINE : 

Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers; 

Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by 
the wayside, 66 

Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade 
of her tresses! 

Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the 
meadows. 

When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide 

Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah ! fair in sooth was the ) 
maiden. 70 1 

Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its 
turret 

Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his. 
hyssop ^ 

Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, 

Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads ^ 
and her missal,^ 

Wearing her Norman cap and her kirtle of blue, and the ear- \ 
rings 75 

Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heir- 
loom. 

Handed down from mother to child, through long genera- 
tions. 

But a celestial brightness^a more ethereal beauty — 

Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after con- 
fession, 

Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon 
her. 80 

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite 
music. 

la wall-growing plant often used in for counting prayers in a devotion called the 

religious ceremonial for sprinkling; in Rosary, 

Scripture the symbol of purification, as in ^ a book containing the prayers used in 

Psalms li. 7, "Purge me with hyssop, and the service of the mass in the Roman Catho- 

I shall be clean." lie Church. 

2 string of beads used by Roman Catholics 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 35 

Firmly biiilded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer 
Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea; and a shady 
Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing 

around it. 
Kudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath ; and a foot- 
path 85 
Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. 
Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse,' 
Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road-side, 
Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary.^ 
Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its 
moss-grown 90 
Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. 
Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the 

barns and the farm-yard; 
There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs 

and the harrows; 
There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feath- 
ered seraglio,^ 
Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the 
selfsame 95 

Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter." 
Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In 

each one 
Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase. 
Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn-loft. 
There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent in- 
mates 100 
Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes 
Numberless noisy weathercocks ^ rattled and sang of mutation. 

1 an annex with its roof sloping from tlie * referring to the crowing of the cock 
wall of the building to which it is attached ; after Peter had thrice denied Christ. Luke 
here, a slight projecting roof. xsii. 60, 61. 

2 the mother of Christ. ^ on the top of roofs or steeples, to show 
' an inclosure ; "feathered seraglio," in- the direction of the wind ; so called from 

closure of feathered animals. being often in the form of a cock. 



36 EVANGELINE : 

Thus^ at peace with God and the world, the farmer of 
Grand- Pre 

Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his house- 
hold. • 

Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his mis- 
sal, 105 

Fixed his eyes npon her as the saint of his deepest devotion; 

Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her 
garment ! 

Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended, 

And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her foot- 
steps. 

Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of 
iron; 110 

Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint ' of the village. 

Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whis- 
pered 

Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. 

But among all who came young Gabriel only was welcome; 

Gabriel Lajeunesse,^ the son of Basil the blacksmith, 115 

Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all 
men; 

For since the birth of time, thronghout all ages and nations, 

Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. 

Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest 
childhood 

Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, 

Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught tliem 
their letters 121 

Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and 
the plain-song.^ 

But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson completed. 

Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith. 

1 a saint chosen as special guardian or ^ pron. la-zlie-nes. 
protector. ^ the Gregorian chant in church music. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 87 

There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold 
him 125 

Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, 

Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the 
cart-wheel 

Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. ' 

Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering darkness 

Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny 
and crevice, 130 

AVarm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows. 

And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the 
ashes, 

Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the 
chapel. 

Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle, 

Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the 
meadow. ' 135 

Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the 
rafters. 

Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swal- 
low 

Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its 
fledglings ^ ; 

Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow! 

Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer Avere chil- 
dren. 140 

He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the 
morning. 

Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into 
action. 

She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a woman. 

1 Before the iron tire is put on a wheel it 2 Among tlie French there is a story that 

is made red-hot in a circle-shaped fire on the if a swallow's young one is blind, the 

ground. This expands it, and when it cools mother finds a small stone on the sea-shore 

on the wheel, it contracts and binds the with which she restores its sight, 
woodwork firmly together. 



38 EVANGELINE : 

"Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " ' was she called; for that was 

the sunshine 
Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards 

with apples; 145 

She too would bring to her husband's house delight and 

abundance, 
Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of children. 



II. 

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder 
and longer. 

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion '^ enters. 

Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the ice- 
bound, 150 

Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. 

Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of Sep- 
tember 

Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with the 
angel. ^ 

All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 

Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their 
honey 155 

Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted 

Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the foxes. 

Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that beauti- 
ful season. 

Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All- 
Saints!' 

1 St. Eulalie's Day is February 12. There October 23. The time was mid-autumn. 
was a popular saying among the Normans ^ referring to the Scripture patriarch 
of France that "if the sun shines on St. Jacob's wrestling with the angel. Gen. 
Eulalie'g Day tliere will be apples and cider xxxii. 24-30. 

in plenty." ^ the "Indian summer," beginning about 

2 in astronomy, one of the twelve signs of November 1, which in the Roman Catholic 
the zodiac, which the sun enters about Church is the feast of All-Saints. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 39 

Filled was tlie air with a dreamy and magical light; and the 
landscape IGO 

Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. 

Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of 
the ocean 

Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony 
blended. 

Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm- 
yards, 

Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of pigeons. 

All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the 
great sun 16G 

Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around 
him ; 

While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yel- 
low. 

Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the 
forest 

Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles 
and jewels.^ 170 

Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and still- 
ness. 

Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight 
descending 

Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to 
the homestead. 

Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each 
other. 

And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of 
evening. 175 

Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, 

1 Ancient Greek writers tell us that the mired so much that he put a beautiful man- 
Persian King Xerxes, who invaded Greece tie upon it, and adorned it with precious 
480 B.C., found a plane-tree; which he ad- jewels. 



40 EVANGELINE : 

Proud of her snow- white hide/ and the ribbon that waved 
from her collar^ 

Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. 

Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from 
the seaside. 

Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the 
watch-dog, 180 

Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his 
instinct. 

Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly 

AVaving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers; 

Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their pro- 
tector. 

When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, the 
wolves howled. 185 

Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the 
marshes. 

Laden with briny hay,^ that filled the air with its odor. 

Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and 
their fetlocks. 

While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous sad- 
dles. 

Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crim- 
son, 190 

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. 

Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders 

Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence 

Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended. 

Lowing of cattle and i3eals of laughter were heard in the farm- 
yard, 195 

Echoed back by the barns. Anon tliey sank into stillness; 

Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn- 
doors. 

Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. 

1 having the smell of the salt water, beino; cut near the sea-shore. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 41 

lu-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the 

farmer 

Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the 

smoke- wreaths 200 

Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind 

him. 
Nodding and mocking along the wall with gestures fantastic. 
Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into dark- 
ness. 
Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his armchair 
Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the 
dresser ' 205 

Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sun- 
shine. 
Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, 
Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him 
Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian ^ vine- 
yards. 
Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated. 
Spinning flax for the loom that stood in the corner behind 
her. 211 

Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle, 
While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a 

bagpipe,' 
Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments to- 
gether. 
As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases. 
Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the 
altar, 216 

So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock 
clicked:* 

> a set of shelves for holding dishes. ^ a wind instrnment of music, much used 

2 Burgundy, in the eastern part of France, in the Highlands of Scotland, 

is famous for its wines. Like Normandy, * au onomatopoetic expression, i.e., the 

famous for its cider, it was formerly a sepa- sound of the spoken words resembles the 

rate province. thing signified. 



42 EVANGELINE ! 

Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly 
lifted. 

Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its 
hinges. 

Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the black- 
smith, 220 

And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with 
him. 

" Welcome! " the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused 
on the threshold, 

*' Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place on the 
settle ^ 

Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without j 
thee; ♦ ' 

Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of to- 
bacco; 225 . 

Never so much thyself art thou as when, through the curling- 
Smoke of the pipe or the forge, thy friendly and jovial face 
gleams 

Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of the 
marshes." 

Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the black- 
smith. 

Taking with easy air the aiccustomed seat by the fireside : — 

" Benedict Belief ontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and thy 
ballad! 231 

Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are filled with 

Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only rain before them. 

Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horse- 
shoe."^ 

Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought 
him, 235 

And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly con- 
tinued : — 

1 A settle is a bench with a high back. 2 a sign of good hick to the tinder. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 43 

"Four days now are passed since tlie English ships at their 
anchors 

Eide in the Gaspereau's^ mouth, with their cannon pointed 
against us. 

What their design may be is unknoAvn^ ))ut all are com- 
manded 

On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's 
mandate ' 240 

Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the mean 
time 

Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." 

Then made answer the farmer: — "Perhaps some friendlier 
purpose 

Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests in 
England 

By the untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted. 

And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and 
children." 246 

"Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said warmly the 
blacksmith. 

Shaking his head as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he con- 
tinued : — 

"Louisburg* is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour,^ nor Port 
Eoyal.' 

Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, 

Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to-morrow. 

Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all 
kinds; 252 

1 a river which flows into tlie Basin of s {jjron. bO sS-zhoor) a French fort on the 
Minas, near Grand-Pre. isthmus between Nova Scotia and New 

2 Tliat is, to the people of Grand -Pre. The Brunswick, attacked and captured by the 
design of the British was kept strictly secret British a short time previous to the expul- 
until it was announced in the church. sion of the Acadians. 

3 the command of the King of England. « Port Royal (now Annapolis), a town of 
■^ a town and fort on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, founded by the French in 

built by the French. It was besieged and 1804, and captured by the British in 1710. 
captured by the British in 1745. 



44 EVANGELINE : 

NothiDg is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of 
the mower." 

Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer: — 

"Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our 
cornfields, 255 

Safer within these peaceful dikes besieged by the ocean, 

Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's cannon. 

Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sorrow 

Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the 
contract. ' 

Built are the house and the barn.^ The merry lads of the vil- 
lage 260 

Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe' 
round about them. 

Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelve- 
month. 

Rene Leblanc * will be here anon, with his papers and inkhorn. 

Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our chil- 
dren? " 

As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her 
lover's, 265 

Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had 
spoken. 

And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary entered. 



III. 



Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean. 
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary pub- 
lic; 

^ the contract of the proposed marriage more commonly the farming land belong- 
between Evangeline and Gabriel Lajeu- ing to a parsonage. 

nesse. * the notary of the village. The notary is 

2 for the young couple. a public officer who attests contracts, deeds, 

' farming-land : the present meaning is and other documents. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 45 

Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung 
Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with 
horn bows 271 

Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. 
Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred 
Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great 

watch tick. 
Four long years in the times of the war had he, languished a 
captive, 275 

Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the 

English.' 
Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion. 
Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. 
He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; 
For he told them tales of the LoujD-garou ^ in the forest, 280 
And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses. 
And of the white Letiche,^ the ghost of a child who unchris- 

tened 
Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of chil- 
dren ; 
And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable," 
And how the fever was cured by a spider shut u-p in a nut- 
shell,' 285 
And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover" and 

horseshoes,^ 
With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village. 

1 He had been in the British service and » In parts of England it was at one time 

had been captured and imprisoned by the a popular belief that a nutshell with a 

French. spider in it, hung on the neck, would cure 

'■2 (pro/?. 16b gS-rdo) French for were-wolf a fever, 

(man-wolf) ; according to the old French « Among the peasantry of Ireland it is 

tales, a man having power to change him- said that a four-leaved shamrock, or clover 

self into a wolf to devour children. (which usually has but three leaves), brings 

3 pron. la-tesh. ' wealth and good fortune to the person who 

* In some countries there is a popular be- finds it. The same fancy is not uncommon 

lief that on Christmas eve the cattle in in America, 

their stables fall on their knees in honor of ^ See 1. ^34 and note, 
the birth of Christ. 



46 EVANGELINE : 

Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the black- 
smith, 

Knocked from his piipe the ashes, and slowly extending his 
right hand, 

*' Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, ^'thon hast heard the talk 
in the village, 290 

And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and 
their errand." 

Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public, — 

*' Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth,' yet am never the 
wiser ; 

And what their errand may be I know no better than others. 

Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil intention 295 

Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then molest 
us?" 

^^ God's name!" shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible 
blacksmith ; 

" Must we in all things look for the how, and the why, and 
the wherefore? 

Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the 
strongest! " 

But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary pub- 
lic,— 300 

" Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice 

Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled 
me, 

AVhen as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal." 

This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it 

AVhenever neighbors complained that any injustice was done 
them. 305 

*' Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember, 

Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice ""^ 

1 truth ; from a root meaning that which is. scales suggesting that the evidence for and 

2 Justice is sometimes represented in the against an accused person must be carefully 
form of a statue with a pair of scales in the weighed and considered, and the sword in- 
left hand and a sword in the other, the timating that punishment awaits the guilty. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 47 

Stood in the public square^ upholding the scales in its left 
hand. 

And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided 

Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the 
people. 310 

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the bal- 
ance. 

Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above 
them. 

But in the course of time the laws of the land were cor- 
rupted ; 

Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, 
and the mighty 

Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's 
palace 315 

That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion 

Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household. 

She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold. 

Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. 

As to her Father in Heaven her innocent spirit ascended, 320 

Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder 

Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left 
hand 

Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the bal- 
ance, 

And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie. 

Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of j^earls was in- 
woven." 325 

Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the 
blacksmith 

Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no lan- 
guage; 

All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the 
vapors 

Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter. 



48 EVANGELINE : 

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table, 330 
Filled, till it overflowed, the ^^ewter tankard with home- 
brewed 
Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village 

of Grand-Pre; 
While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and ink- 
horn. 
Wrote with a steady hand the date, and the age of the parties, 
J^aming the doAver ^ of the bride in flocks of sheep and in 
cattle. 335 

Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were com- 
pleted, 
And the great seal ^ of the law was set like a sun on the mar- 
gin- 
Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the table 
Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; 
And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and bridegroom, 
Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. 341 
Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and de- 
parted. 
While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside. 
Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. 
Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old 
men 345 

Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre. 
Laughed when a man ^ was crowned, or a breach was made in 

the king-row. 
Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's em- 
brasure. 
Sat the lovers and whispered together, beholding the moon rise 

1 property which a bride brings to her ^ one of the pieces used in playing 
husband. See 1. 367. draughts, or checkers ; it is crowned when 

2 a stamp impressed upon or attached to the player succeeds in moving it into the 
a contract, deed, or other document, to king-row, or back row, of his opponent's 
make it binding in law. It is usually round side of the board. 

and about the size of a silver dollar. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 49 

Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. 350 
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven. 
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. 

Thns passed the evening away. Anon the bell from the 
belfry 

Rang ont the hour of nine, the village curfew,' and straight- 
way 

Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the 
household. 355 

Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door-step 

Lingered, long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with glad- 
ness. 

Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the 
hearth-stone. 

And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. 

Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline followed. 

Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness, 361 

Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. 

Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of 
her chamber. 

Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its 
clothes-press 

Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully 
folded 365 

Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. 

This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband 
in marriage. 

Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a 
housewife. 

^ curfew, from the French couvre-feu middle ages. Its object was to prevent 

(cover-fire) ; the ringing of a bell in towns disorderly conduct at late hours in the 

and villages at a certain hour in the evening streets, which in those times were not 

a notice to the inhabitants to withdraw lighted at night, or patrolled by organized 

to their homes, cover up their fires, put out police. The custom is said to have been in- 

their lights, and retire to rest. This cus- troduced into England by William the Con- 

tom, now rare, was universal during the queror (1066). 
4 



60 EVANGELINE : 

Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant 

moonlight 
Streamed through the windows, and lighted, the room, till the 

heart of the maiden 370 

Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the 

ocean. 
Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with 
Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber! 
Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard. 
Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and 

her shadow. 375 

Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness 
Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the 

moonlight 
Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. 
And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the 

moon pass 
Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her foot- 
steps, 380 
As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with 

Hagar. * 

IV. 

Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of 
Grand-Pre, 
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air 'the Basin of Minas, 
Where the ships, «with their wavering shadows, Avere riding at 

anchor. 
Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor 
Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the 
morning. 386 

Now from the country around, from the farms and neighbor- 
ing hamlets, 

1 See Gen. xxi. 14. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 61 

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. 

Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk 

Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous mead- 
ows, 390 

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the 
greensward, 

Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the 
highway. 

Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. 

Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at 
the house-doors 394 

Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. 

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; 

For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together, 

All things were held in common, and what one had was an- 
other's. 

Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant: 

For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father; 400 

Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and 
gladness 

Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it. 

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, 

Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal. 

There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary 
seated ; 405 

There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. 

Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the bee- 
hives, 

Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and 
of waistcoats. 

Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his 
snow-white 

Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fid- 
dler 410 



52 EVANGELINE : 

Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the 

embers. 
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, 
Tous les Bourgeois de Cliartres,^ and Le Oarilloii de Dun- 
Jeer que, ^ 
And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. 414 
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances 
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; 
Old folk and young together, and children mingled among 

them. 
Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter! 
Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the black- 
smith ! 

So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons 
sonorous 420 

Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a 
drum beat. 

Thronged ere long was the church with men. AVithout, in 
the churchyard, 

Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on 
the headstones 

Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the 
forest. 

Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly 
among them 425 

Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor 

Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and 
casement, — 

Echoed a moment only, and slowly the j^onderous portal 

Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the sol- 
diers. 

^ (pron. too la boor-zhwa dti shartr) 2 Qjron. lu ka-re-yoN du duN-kerk) " The 
French for " All the Citizens of Chartres," Chimes of Dunkirk " (town of France), 
the first words, or name, of an old French name of an old French song. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 63 

Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of 
the altar, 430 

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commis- 
sion.^ 

*^You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's 
orders. 

Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered 
his kindness 

Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my 
temper 

Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be griev- 
ous. 435 

Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch : 

Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all 
kinds 

Forfeited be to the crown ; and that you yourselves from this 
province 

Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell 
there 

Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people ! 440 

Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty's pleas- 
ure!" 

As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice ^ of summer. 

Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hail- 
stones 

Beats down the farmer's corn in the field, and shatters his 
windows, 

Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from 
the house-roofs, 445 

Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures; 

So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the 
speaker. 

* formal order from the king. north from the equator, on the 21ist of June. 

2 The sun reaches the summer solstice, the The poet means the heavy weather of late 
point in the ecliptic where it is farthest June and July. 



54 EVANGELINE : 

Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then 
rose 

Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger. 

And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door- 
way. 450 

Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations i 

Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads 
of the others 

Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the black- 
smith, 

As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows. 

Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly 
he shouted, — . 455 

*^ Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn 
them allegiance ! ' 

Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and 
our harvests! " 

More he fain w^oidd have said, but the merciless hand of a 
soldier 

Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the 
pavement. 

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, 
Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician 461 
Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the 

altar. 
Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence 
All that clamorous throng; aud thus he spake to his people; 
Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and 

mournful 465 

Spake he, as, after the tocsin's^ alarum, distinctly the clock 

strikes. 

* See Introduction, p. 13. Father Felician " spake in measured ac- 

2 The poet probably had in mind the bell cents," just as, after the clangorous ringing 

and clock of a church tower. After " the of an alarm, the clock may strike slowly 

strife and turmoil of angry contention," and distinctly. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 66 

** What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has 
seized you? 

Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught 
you, 

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another! 

Is this. the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and pri- 
vations? 470 

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? 

This is the house of tlie Prince of Peace, and would you pro- 
fane it 

Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? 

Lo ! where the crucified Christ from His cross is gazing upon 
you! 

See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compas- 
sion! 475 

Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, ' Father, for- 
give them ! ' ' 

Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us. 

Let us repeat it now, and say, ' Father, forgive them! ' " 

Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his 
people 

Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate 
outbreak, 480 

While they repeated his j)rayer, and said, " Father, forgive 
them!" 

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from 

the altar; 
Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people 

responded, 
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave 

Maria' 

1 the prayer of Jeeus after being nailed to Mary," the first words of a Latin prayer 
the cross. Luke xxiii. 34. said in the Roman Catholic Church to the 

* {pron. ah-va mah-re-a) Latin for " Hail, mother of Christ. 



56 EVANGELINE : 

Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with de- 
votion translated, 485 
Eose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ' ascending to heaven. 

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and 
on all sides 

Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and chil- 
dren. 

Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right 
hand 

Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, de- 
scending, 490 

Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and 
roofed each 

Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its 
windows. 

Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the 
table ; 

There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with 
wild flowers; 

There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought 
from the dairy; 495 

And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of the 
farmer. 

Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset 

Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial* 
meadows. 

Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen. 

And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended, — 

Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and pa- 
tience! 501 

Then, all forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, 

' See 2 Kings ii. 11. cious, and to make those who partook of it 

* sweet-smelling, from ambrosia, the food immortal. Nectar, the drink of the gods, 
of the gods, which was said to be very deli- has also become proverbial. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 67 

Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the 
women. 

As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they de- 
parted, 

Urged by their household cares, and the Aveary feet of their 
children. 505 

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering 
vapors 

Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet ^ descending 
from Sinai. 

Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. 

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lin- 
gered. 

All was silent within ; and in vain at the door and the win- 
dows 510 

Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by emo- 
tion, 

''Gabriel!" cried she aloud with tremulous voice; but no 
answer 

Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gioomier grave ^ of 
the living. 

Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her 
father. 

^mouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board was the sup- 
per untasted, 515 

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phan- 
toms of terror. 

Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her cham- 
ber. 

[n the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate rain fall 

Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the 
window. 

1 Moses. See Exodus xxxiv. 29-35. 

2 the church iu which the people were held prisoners. 



58 EVANGELINE : 

Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoii 

thunder 5') 

Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world I] 

created ! 
Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice 

Heaven ; 
Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbenj 

till morning. 



Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fift 

day 
Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farn 

house. 52 

Soon o'er the yellow fields,, in silent and mournful processioi 
Came from the neigliboring hamlets and farms the Acadia 

women, 
Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the set 

shore. 
Pausing and lookins^ back to s^aze once more on their dwell 

o o o 

ings. 
Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and th 

Avoodland. 53 

Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on th 

oxen. 
While in their little hands they clasped some fragments o 

playthings. 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on 

the sea-beach 
Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. 
All day long between the shore and the ships did the boat* 

ply; 53^ 

All day long the wains came laboring down from the village 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 59 

Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting. 
Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the 

churchyard. 
Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden the 

church-doors 
Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy 

procession 540 

Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. 
Even as pilgrims, who journey afar *from their homes and 

their country, 
Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and 

way-worn. 
So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended 
Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and 

their daughters. 545 

Foremost the young men came; and, raising together their 

voices. 
Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions: — 
" Sacred heart of the Saviour! inexhaustible fountain! 
Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and 

patience ! ' ' 
Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that 

stood by the wayside 550 

Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine 

above them 
Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. 

Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, 
Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, — 
Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession approached 

her, 555 

And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. 
Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him, 
Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and " 

whispered, — 



60 EVANGELINE : 

" Gabriel! be of good clieer! for if we love one another 
Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may! 

happen!" 560 ' 

Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her 

father 
Saw she, slowly advancing. Alas! how changed was his aspect! 
Gone Avas the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, , 

and his footstep 
Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his 

bosom. 
But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and em- i 

braced him, 565 

Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed'! 

not. I 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful | 

procession. 

There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of em- 
barking. 
Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion 
Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, 
saw their children 570 

Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest en- 
treaties. 
So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried. 
While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her 

father. 
Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the 

twilight 
Deepened and darkened around ; and in haste the refluent ' 
ocean 575 

Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand -beach 
Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery sea- 
weed. 

1 flowing back ; the tide going out. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 61 

Farther back in tlie midst of the househokl goods and the 

wagons, 

Like to a gypsy camp, or a leagner ' after a battle, 
A.11 escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them, 580 
Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. 
Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean. 
Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving 
[nland and far up the shore ^ the stranded boats of the sailors. 
Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their 

pastures; 585 

Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from their 

udders ; 
Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the 

farm-yard, — 
Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the 

milkmaid. 
Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus 

sonnded,^ 
Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from 

the windows. 590 

But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been 
kindled. 

Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in 
the tempest. 

Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gath- 
ered. 

Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the crying of 
children. 

Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his par- 
ish, 595 

Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and 
cheering, 

1 camp of an ai'my. The word is anti- ^ BecauBe of the great fall of the tide. See 
quated. note on 1. 25. ^ Compare with 11. 49, 50. 



62 EVANGELINE : 

Like unto shipwrecked Paul ' on Melita's desolate seashore. 
Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her 

father. 
And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man, 
Haggard and hollow and wan, and without either thought or 

emotion, 600 

E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been 

taken. 
Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer 

him. 
Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked not, he 

spake not. 
But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire- 

light. 
'' Benedicite! ^^"^ murmured the priest, in tones of compas- , 

sion. 605 

More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his 

accents | 

Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a 

threshold. 
Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of 

sorrow. 
Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the 

maiden, 
Eaising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above them 
Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows 

of mortals. 611 

Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in 

silence. 

Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the 
blood-red 
Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon 

1 Read account of the shipwreck in Acts ^ Latin for "bless you," meaning "God 
xxvii., xxviii. bless you." 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 63 

itan-like ' stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and 

meadow, 615 

eizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows 

together. 

broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village, 
irieamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the 

roadstead. 
Columns of shining smoke U2-)rose, and flashes of flame were 
Chrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering 

hands of a martyr. 620 

Chen as the wind seized the gleeds ^ and the burning thatch, 

and, uplifting, 
vVhirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred 

house-tops 
started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame intermingled. 

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and 
on shipboard. 

Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their an- 
guish, 625 
* We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand- 

Pre!" 
Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farmyards. 
Thinking the day had dawned; and anon the lowing of cattle 
Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs inter- 
rupted. 

Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping en- 
campments 630 
Far in the western prairies of forests that skirt the Nebraska,^ 
When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of 

the whirlwind. 
Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. 

1 According to the early Grecian mythol- 2 burning coals (archaic), 
ogy, there was, of the race of the Titans, a s the Platte River, of Nebraska, some- 
hundred-handed giant named Briareus. times called the Nebraska. 



64 EVANGELINE : 

Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds ar 

the horses 
Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed o'(' 

the meadows. 6t-| 

Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest ar 

the maiden 
Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened b 

fore them; 
And as they turned at length to speak to their silent compas 

ion, 
Lo! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on tl 

seashore 6\\ 

Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. 
Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden 
Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. 
Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on 1: 

• bosom. 
Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber; 
And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitiv 

near her. 6- 

Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing up< 

her. 
Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion. 
Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscaf 
Eeddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces aroui 

her, 6 

And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. 
Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people, — 
" Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season 
Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of o 

exile, 

Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the churchyard 
Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by t 

sea-side, 6 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 65 

laving the glare of the burning village for funeral torches, 
^•it without bell or book/ they buried the farmer of Grand- 
Pre. 
5 And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow, 
Lo! with a mournful sound like the voice of a vast congrega- 
tion. 

Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the 

dirges. ' 660 

Twas the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the 

ocean, 
[^^Vith the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying 

landward. 

'^^hen recommenced once more the stir and noise of embark- 
ing; 

Knd with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of the har- 
bor, 
eaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village 
in ruins. 665 



51 



1 without funeral bell, or book for burial service. 

5 



PART THE SECOND. 



I. 



Maity a weary year had passed since the burning of Gram 
Pre, 

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed. 

Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile. 

Exile without an end, and without an example in story. 

Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; 670 

Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind fr(\m 
the northeast 

Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks ' of 
Newfoundland. 

Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city, 

From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savan- 
nas,^ — 

From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father 
of Waters' 675 

Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the 
ocean. 

Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mam- 
moth/ 

Friends they sought and homes; and many, des]3airing, heart- 
broken, 

Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor :i 
fireside. 

1 extensive shallow parts of the sea bor- ■* an extinct animal resembling the ele- 

dering Newfoundland. phant, but larger ; mammoth bones ha^e 

"^ broad grassy plains without trees. been found in many places in the United 

3 the Mississippi Kiver. States and Canada. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 67 

Tritten their history stands on tablets of stone in the church- 
yards. 680 
ong among them was seen a maiden who waited and wan- 
dered, 
owly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. 
air was she and young; but, alas! before her extended, 
reary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway 
[arked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered 
before her, w 685 
assions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and aban- 
doned, 

s the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked by 
amp-&res long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sun- 
shine. 

omething there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, un- 
finished; 689 
s if a morning of June, with all its music and sunshine, 
uddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly descended 
ato the east again, from whence it late had arisen, 
ometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever 

within her, 

frged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the 
spirit, 694 

he would commence again her endless search and endeavor; 
iome times in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses 

and tombstones, 
lat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its 

bosom 
le was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. 
Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, 699 
^ame with its airy hand ' to point and beckon her forward. 
Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved and 

known him, 
5ut it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. 

1 Note the increasing degrees of indefiniteness ; rumor, hearsay, whisper, airy hand. 



68 EVANGELINE : 

'* Grabriel Lajeunesse!" they said; "Oh, yes! we have see 

him. 
He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to th 

prairies ; 
Coureurs-des-bois ^ are they, and famous hunters and trap-i 

pers." 7051 

'^ Gabriel Lajeunesse! " said others; '' Oh, yes! we have see 

him. 
He is a voyageur^ in the lowlgjids of Louisiana." 
Then would they say, ' " Dear child ! why dream and wait for 

him longer? 

Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel ? others 
Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal ? 710 
Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved 

thee 
Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and be happy! 
Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses.'" 
Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, "I can- 
not! 
Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not 

elsewhere. 715 

For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the 

pathway, 
Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." 
Thereupon the priest, her friend and father confessor. 
Said, with a smile, "0 daughter! thy God thus speaketh 

within thee! 
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ; 720 
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning 

J (pron. koo-rur da bwa) French for across the country in the interior of Canada, 

wood-runners ; persons who acted asguides 3 " To braid St. Catherine's tresses " is a ; 

for traders in the back regions of Canada. French proverb meaning to live unmarried. [ 

The French, it must be remembered, were Tlie reference is to St. Catherine of Alex- j 

before the English in exploring and trading andria (Egypt), the patron of virgins, who , 

in the country west of the Alleghanies. was martyred during the persecutions of the 

"^ (pron. vwa-ya-zhur) Frencli for travel- Christians under the Roman emperor Maxi- 

lers ; persons who carried goods by rivers and milian (a.d. 307). 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 69 

Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of 

refreshment; 
Chat which the fountain sends forth returns again to the 

fountain, 
atience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work of 

affection ! 
•sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is god- 
like. 725 

Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made 
godlike, 

Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy 
of heaven! " 
heered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and 
waited. 

Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, 

t^ut with its sound there was mingled a voice that whispered, 
''Despair not! " 730 

Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless discom- 
fort. 

Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards ^ and thorns of exist- 
ence. 

Let me essay, Muse!^ to follow the wanderer's footsteps; — 

Not through each devious path, each changeful year of exist- 
ence ; 

But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the 
valley: 735 

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its 
water 

Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; 

Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that 
conceal it, 

1 pieces of broken earthen vessels ; here different arts and sciences. Following the 
meaning griefs, troubles of life. classic custom (note the beginnings of the 

2 the goddess of song. The ancients " Iliad " and the " ^Eneid ") modern poets 
believed there were nine goddesses — called sometimes "■ mvoke the muee " as though 
the Nine Muses— who presided over the calling on a protecting deity. 



EVANGELINE : 



Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmur; 

Happy, at length, if he find ' a spot where it reaches an 

outlet. 740 



II. 



It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River, 
Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash/ 
Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi, 
Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boat 

men. 
It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the ship- | 

wrecked 745 

Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together. 
Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common mis- 
fortune ; 
Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by 

hearsay. 
Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred 

farmers 
On the Acadian coast,* and the prairies of fair Opelousas.^ 
AVith them Fvangeline went, and her guide, the Father Fe- 
lician. 751 

Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with 

forests. 
Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river; 
Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its bor- 
ders. 
Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where 
plumelike 755 

1 Note the use of the subjunctive mood. sippi, on both sides of the river, were so 

2 the Ohio,which means "beautiful river." called because of numbers of exiled Aca- 
^ a river wliich, forming the boundary in dians liaving settled in them. Further down 

part between Indiana and Illinois, flows into is the Golden Coast (1. 764); look at the 
the Ohio. map, p. 15, and note, p. 71. 

4 Districts near the mouth of the Missis- ^ a town and district of Louisiana. 



iO '^' 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 71 

( 'Otton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the 

current, 
Then emerged into broad higoons/ where silvery sandbars 
Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling '^ waves of their 

margin, 
Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans 
waded. 759 

Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the river. 
Shaded by china- trees, ^ in the midst of luxuriant gardens. 
Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and dove-cots. 
I They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual 
summer. 
Where through the Golden Coast," and groves of orange and 
citron, 764 

Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the eastward. 
They, too, swerved from their course ; and, entering the Bayou 

of Plaquemine,^ 
Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters. 
Which, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. 
Over their heads the towering and tenebrous® boughs of the 

cypress 
Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air 770 

Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathe- 
drals. 
Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the 

herons 
Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset. 
Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laugh- 
ter. 

1 shallow ponds or lakes, especially those * The banks of the Mississippi, above New 
into which the sea flows. Orleans, were so called from the extreme 

2 rippling. Note the use of " apt allitera- richness of the soil. 

tion's artful aid." ^ r^^^Q Bayou of Plaquemine connected the 

3 China-tree, the soapberry, an evergreen, Mississippi, near the town Plaquemine, with 
bearing red berries, used as a substitute for the Atchafalaya. 

soap. It grows in North Mexico and « dark, gloomy. 
parts of our southern States. 



72 EVANGELINE : 

Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the 

water^ 775 

Grleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining the 

arches, 
Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through chinks 

in a ruin. 
Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things around 

them ; 
And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and sad' 

ness, — 
Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be com-' 

passed. 780 

As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies. 
Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mi 

mosa,' 
So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil. 
Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has| 

attained it. 

But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly 
Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the 

moonlight. 786 

It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a 

phantom. 
Through those shadowy aisles Miad Gabriel wandered before 

her. 
And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and 

nearer. 

Then in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the 
oarsmen, 790 

And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure 
Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on 
his bugle. 

1 a plant, one species of which, called the sensitive plant, closes its leaves when agi- 
tated. " formed by the trees, as before described. 






^ A TALE OF ACADIE. 73 

^ild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the 

blast rang, 
Breaking the seal of silence and giving tongues to the forest. 
Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the 

music. 795 

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, 
Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches; 
But not a voice replied; no answer came from the darkness; 
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the 

silence. 
Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowed through the 

midnight, 800 

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs. 
Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers. 
And through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of 

the desert. 

Far off, indistinct, as of wave or wind in the forest. 
Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim 

alligator. 805 

Thus ere another noon they emerged from the shades; and 
before them 
Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchaf alaya. ^ 
Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations 
Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the 

lotus ^ 
Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen. 810 
Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia blos- 
soms. 
And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan^ islands. 
Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of 

roses. 
Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. 

1 a river of Louisiana. s The Latin sylva means a wood or 

2 a water plant, producing a beautiful flower, forest. See note, 1. 1253. 



74 EVANGELINE ! 

Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. 
Under the boughs of Wachita ' willows, that grew by the mar- 
gin, 8161 
Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the] 

greensward, 
Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slum -J 

bered. 
Over them vast and high extended the cope ^ of a cedar. 
Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and th( 

grape-vine 820 

Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob, ^ 
On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, descending. 
Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blossom to 

blossom. 
Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered beneath 

it. 
Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening 

heaven 825 

Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial. 

Nearer, ever nearer, among the numberless islands, 

Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the water, 

Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and trap- 
pers. 

Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and 
beaver. 830 

At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and 
careworn. 

Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a sad- 
ness 

Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. 

Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and rest- 
less, ^ 834 

* a river in Louisiana, correctly spelled 2 covering. 
Ouachita. 3 See Gen. xxviii. 10-12. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 75 

Sought in tlie Western wilds oblivion of self and of sorrow. 

Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island, 

But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos; 

So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the 
willows ; 

All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were 
the sleepers; 

Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumbering 
maiden. 840 

Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the 
prairie. 

After the sound of their oars on the tholes ' had died in the 
distance. 

As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden 

Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, *' Father Felician! 

Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. 

Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition ? 846 

Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my spirit ? " 

Then, with a blush, she added, '^ Alas for my credulous fancy! 

Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning." 

But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he 
answered, — , 850 

* ' Daughter, thy words are not idle ; nor are they to me 
without meaning. 

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the 
surface 

Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hid- 
den. 

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illu- 
sions. 

Gabriel truly is near thee ; for not far away to the southward. 

On the banks of the Teche,^ are the towns of St. Maur and 
St. Martin, 856 

1 pins set in the sides of a boat as fiil- ^ (pron. tesh) a bayon of Louisiana flow- 
criims for the oars in rowing. ing into the Atchafalaya Bayou. 



76 EVANGELINE : 

There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her 
bridegroom, 

There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his sheep- 
fold. 

Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit- 
trees ; 

Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens 

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the for- 
est. 861 

They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana. ' ' 

With these words of 'cheer they arose and continued their 
journey. 
Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon 
Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the land- 
scape; 865 
Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest 
Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled to- 
gether. 
Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver. 
Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motionless 

water. 
Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness. 
Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountains of feel- 
ing 871 
Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around 

her. 
Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of 

singers. 
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, 
Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, 
That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent 
to listen. 876 

Plaintive at first were the tones and sad; then soaring to 
madness 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 77 

Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bac- 
chantes. ' 

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation; 

Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in de- 
rision, 880 

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops 

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the 
branches. 

With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with 
emotion. 

Slowly they entered the Teclie, where it flows through the 
green Opelousas, 

And, through the amber air, above the crest of the woodland. 

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring dwell- 
ing;— 886 

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle. 



III. 



Neae to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks from 
whose branches 
Garlands of Spanish moss ^ and of mystic mistletoe ^ flaunted. 
Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule- 
tide," 890 

^ {pron. bar-kan'tez). According to an- believing it to possess magical virtues, 

cient mythology, Bacchus was the god of When found, one of their Druids mounted 

wine. Some of his followers who wor- the tree, and with a knife or hatchet of gold 

shipped him by wild dances and songs, and cut the mistletoe, which was received in his 

other excesses, were called Bacchantes. robe by another Druid standing on the 

2 called also long moss ; a plant with gray ground, 

stems and leaVes, forming dense hanging * Yule was the Anglo-Saxon word for the 

tufts, which drape the forests of the south- winter solstice— the shortest day in the 

ern United States. year (Dec. 21). This being about Christmas, 

' an evergreen plant which grows as a Yule came to be used for the latter festival, 

parasite on many kinds of trees— sometimes. The burning of a great log of wood— the 

but rarely, on the oak. The ancient Celtic Yule-log— on the hearth, was one of the 

inhabitants of Britain and France regarded features of the Christmas celebration, 
the oak mistletoe with special reverence, 



78 EVANGELINE : 

Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A gar- 
den 
Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blossoms. 
Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers 
Hewn from the cypress- tree, and carefully fitted together. 
Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns sup- 
ported, 895 
Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda. 
Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. 
At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, 
Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol. 
Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. 
Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sun- 
shine 901 
Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in 

shadow. 
And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding 
Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 
In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway 
Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless 
prairie, 906 

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. 
Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas 
Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the 

tropics. 
Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape-vines. 

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the 
prairie, 911 

Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups. 

Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. 

Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish 
sombrero 

Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its mas- 
ter. 915 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 79 

Round about him were numberless herds of kine that were 
grazing 

Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness 

That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscajie. 

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding 

Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded 

Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the 
evening. 921 

Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle 

Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean. 

Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the 
prairie. 

And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance. 

Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate 
of the garden 926 

Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to 
meet him. 

Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and 
forward 

Pushed Avith extended arms and exclamations of wonder; 

When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the black- 
smith. 930 

Hearty his Avelcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. 

There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer 

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly 
embraces. 

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thought- 
ful. 

Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and 
misgivings 935 

Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embar- 
rassed, 

Broke the silence and said, " If you came by the Atchafalaya, 

How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the 
bayous? " 



80 EVANGELINE : 

Over Evangeline's face at tlie words of Basil a shade passed. 

ITears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous 
accent, 940 

"Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his 
shoulder. 

All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and la- 
mented. 

Then the good Basil said, — and. his voice grew blithe as he 
said it, — 

"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed. 

Foolish boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my 
horses. 945 

Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spirit 

Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. 

Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, 

Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, 

He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens. 

Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent 
him 951 

Unto the town of Adayes ' to trade for mules with the Span- 
iards. 

Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Moun- 
tains,^ 

Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the 
beaver. 

Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; 

He is not far on his way, and the Fates ^ and the streams are 
against him. 956 

Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the 
morning. 

We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison." 

1 in Texas. ence. One, named Clotho, spun the thread 

2 in Arkansas and Missouri. of life from a distaff she held in her 

3 The fates were three sister goddesses of arms ; the second, Lachesis, twisted it ; and 
ancient mythology. They were represented the third, Atropos, cut it with huge scis- 
as controlling the destinies of human exist- sors. 



j A TALE OF ACADIE. 81 

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the 
river. 

Borne aloft on his comrades'' arms, came Michael the fiddler. 

Long under Basil's roof had he lived, like a god on Olympus,' 

Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. 002 

Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. 

*'Long live Michael," they cried, ''our brave Acadian min- 
strel!" 

As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straight- 
way 965 

Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man 

Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured. 

Hailed with hihirious joy his old companions and gossips. 

Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters. 

Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-devant ^ black- 
smith, 970 

All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor; 

Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and the 
climate. 

And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who 
would take them; 

Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do 
likewise. 

Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy ve- 
randa, 975 

Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of 
Basil 

Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together. 

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. 
All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver. 
Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within 
doors, 980 

^ a mountain of ancient Greece, on the top of which, according to Greek mythology, 
were the golden mansions of the gods. ^ (pron. 66-du-vaN) French for late, former. 

6 



82 EVANGELINE : 

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glim- 
mering lamplight. 

Then from his station aloft, ai the head of the table, the 
herdsman 

Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless pro- 
fusion. 

Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches ^ 
tobacco. 

Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they 
listened : — 985 

" Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friend- 
less and homeless, 

Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than 
the old one! 

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers; 

Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer; 

Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as a keel 
through the water. 990 

All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and 
grass grows 

More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. 

Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the 
prairies; 

Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of 
timber 

With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. 

After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with 
harvests, 996 

No King George of England shall drive you away from your 
homesteads,^ 

1 a town and district of Louisiana. must have been somewhat later. Louisiana 

2 The country up and down the Missis- became Spanish in 1763, and was ceded back 
sippi was explored and settled chietly by to France in 1801. It was never English, 
the French. Just what is the time of this butwasacquiredbythe United Statesinl803. 
part of the story is uncertain. The Acadian The name was then applied to an immense 
settlers reached New Orleans in 1765 ; this territory, not merely to the present State. 



[ A TALE OF ACADIE. 83 

Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms 

and your cattle." 
Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nos- 
trils, 
"While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the 
table, 1000 

So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded, 
Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his nos- 
trils. 
But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and 

gayer:— 
'' Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever! 
For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, 1005 

Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nut- 
shell!" 

Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps ap- 
proaching 

Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. 
It was the neighboring Creoles ' and small Acadian jolanters. 
Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the herds- 
man. 1010 
Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors: 
Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were 

as strangers, 
Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other. 
Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. 
But in the neighboriug hall a strain of music, proceeding 
From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle. 
Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted, 
All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the mad- 
dening 
Whirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music. 
Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering gar- 
ments. 1020 

1 persons born in the southern American colonies, of European parentage. 



84 EVANGELINE : 

Meanwhile, apart, at tlie head of the hall, the priest and 
the herdsman 
Sat, conversing together of past and present and future; 
While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her 
Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music 
Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness 
Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the gar- 
den. 1026 
Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the forest. 
Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river 
Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam 

of the moonlight, 
Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious' 
spirit. 1030 

Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden 
Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and 

confessions 
Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian.* 
Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and 

night-dews. 
Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the magical 
moonlight 1035 

Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings. 
As, through the garden-gate, and beneath the shade of, the 

oak-trees. 
Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless 

prairie. 
Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies 1039 
Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. 
Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens. 
Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and wor- 
ship, 

1 The Carthusians are a religious order of silence is one of the rules of the order, the 

monks, founded in the eleventh century in monks being allowed to speak only occa- 

Chartreux, France ; Latin, Cartusiensis, sionally. 
from which the name is derived. Strict 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 85 

Bave when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that tem- 
ple/ 

A.S if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Uphar- 
sin."^ 

A.nd the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire- 
flies, 1045 

Wandered alone, and she cried, " Gabriel! my beloved! 

A.rt thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? 

A.rt thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? 

A.h ! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie ! 

Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands 
around me! 1050 

Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor. 

Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slum- 
bers ! 

When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about 
thee? " 

Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded 

Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring 
thickets, 1055 

Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. 

"Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns^ of 
darkness ; 

And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, " To-mor- 



? " 



row: 



Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers of the 

gardan 
Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his 

tresses 1060 

With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases of crystal. 

1 the sky. 2 Read Daniel v. 5-29. of Apollo at Delphi on the slopes of Par- 

3 There was an ancient Grecian oracle at nassus. The inspired words of a priestess 

Dodona in a grove of oaks, from which an- who inhaled the hallowed air of a cavern in 

swers were given to inquiries regarding the the side of the mountain was interpreted 

future. A more celebrated oracle was that by the priests. 



86 EVANGELINE : 

"Farewell!" said the priest, as lie stood at the shadowy 
threshold ; 

"See that you bring us the Prodigal Son ^ from his fasting 
and famine, 

And, too, the Foolish Virgin,'' who slept when the bridegroom 
was coming." 

"Farewell! " answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Basil 
descended 1065 

Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were 
waiting. 

Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sunshine, 
and gladness. 

Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was speeding ^ 
before them. 

Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the desert. 

Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that succeeded. 

Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, 1071 

Nor, after many days, had they found him; but vague and 
uncertain 

Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate;; 
country ; 

Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 

Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the gar- 
rulous ' landlord 1075 

That on the day before, with horses and guides and compan- 
ions, 

Grabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. 

IV. 

Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the moun- 
tains 
Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous sum- 
mits. 

J Read Luke xv. 11-32. 2 Read Matthew xxv. 1-13. ^ talkative. 



A TALE OF ACADTE. 87 

Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, like 
a gate*Avay, 1080 

Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon. 

Westward the Oregon ^ flows and the Walleway " and Owyhee. 

i^^astward, with devious course, among the Wind-river Moun- 
tains,^ 

'i'hrough the Sweet-water Valley * precipitate Meaps the Ne- 
braska ^ ; 

And to the south, from Fontaine-qui-bout ^ and the Spanish 
Sierras,' 1085 

Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the 
desert. 

Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the 
ocean. 

Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibra- 
tions. 

Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful 
prairies, 1089 

Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sunshine. 

Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas.^ 

Over them wandered the buft'alo herds, and the elk and the 
roebuck ; 

Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of riderless horses; 

Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with 
travel; 1094 

Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children,*" 

' a river, now the Columbia, second in ing spring ; a creek of Colorado running 

size on the Pacific coast. into the Arkansas River at Pueblo. 

■■^ a river having its source in north ^ mountain range in Utah and New Mex- 

Nevada, and flowing into the Snake River, ico ; "sierra" means like the teeth of a 

an affluent of the Niobrara. saw, from the Spanish sierra, a saw. 

3 in the western part of Wyoming, form » amorpha, a shrub of irregular shape, 

part of the Rocky Mountains. known as false indigo or lead plant, having 

* in Wyoming. long dense clusters of blue-violet flowers. 

^ as over a precipice ; headlong. i" Ishmael, son of Hagar. Genesis xxi. 

« The Nebraska, or Platte River, rises in 14-21. The Arabs regard him as their an- 

the Rocky Mountains and flows into the cestor. The American Indians have been 

Missouri River. thought of as his descendants because of 

' {pron. foN-taN-ke-bd()) French for boil- their wandering habits and warlike spirit. 



88 EVANGELINE : 

Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible war- 
trails 
Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, 
Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in battle. 
By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 
Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage 
marauders; 1100 

Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-running 

rivers; 
And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert. 
Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brook- 
side, 
And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven, 
Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. 1105 

Into this wonderful land, at. the base of the Ozark Moun- 
tains, 

Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind 
him. 

Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and Basil 

Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake 
him. 

Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his 
camp-fire 1110 

Rise in the morning air from the distant plain; but at night- 
fall. 

When they had reached the place, they found only embers 
and ashes. 

And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies 
were weary, 

Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana * 

Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished 
before them. 1115 

' kind of mirage or optical illusion, misshapen, or multiplied. It is seen par- 
wluch shows distant objects as if inverted, ticularly at the Strait of Messina, in Italy, 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 89 

Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently en- 
tered 

Into tlie little camj) an Indian woman, whose featnres 

Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as her sor- 
row. 

She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her people. 

From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Camanches, 

Where her Canadian husband, a coureur-des-bois,' had been 
murdered. 1121 

Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and 
friendliest welcome 

Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted 
among them 

On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. 

But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his com- 
panions, 1125 

W^orn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer 
and the bison. 

Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the 
quivering fire-light 

Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms wrapped up 
in their blankets. 

Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and repeated 

Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the charm of her Indian ac- 
cent, 1130 

All the tale of her love, with its jDleasures, and pains, and re- 
verses. 

Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another 

Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disap- 
pointed. 

Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compas- 
sion, 

and being supposed to be caused by a Fata in the distance, but on approaching the 

or fairy named Morgana, it was so called, place Jie finds he is the victim of an ocular 

In some southern parts of the United States deception, 

the traveller sees what appear to be lakes * See note on 1. 705. 



90 EVANGELINE : 

Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was near 

her, 1135 

She in turn related her love and all its disasters. 
Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she had ended 
Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror 
Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale of 

the Mowis; 
Mowis, the bridegroom of snow, avIio won and wedded a 

maiden, 114U 

But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wig- 
wam. 
Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine. 
Till slie beheld him no more, though she followed far into the 

forest. 
Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a weird 

incantation,' 
Tokl she the tale of the fair Lilinau,'' who was wooed by a 

2)hantom, 1145 

That, through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush 

of the twilight. 
Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the 

maiden. 
Till she followed his green and waving plume through the 

forest. 
And nevermore returned, nor was seen again by her people. 
Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened 
To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around 

her 1151 

Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the 

enchantress. 
Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose, 
Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor 
Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the 

woodland. 1155 

1 relating to witchcraft. 2 (^pron. le-le-nO) the subject of an Indian legend. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 91 

With a delicions sound the brook rushed by, and the branches 
Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers. 
Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a 

secret, 
Subtile sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror. 
As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swal- 
low. 1160 
It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of spirits 
Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a moment 
That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phan- 
tom. 
With this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom 
had vanished. 

Early upon the morrow ,the march was resumed, and the 
Shawnee 1165 

Said, as they journeyed along, — '' On the western slope of 
these mountains 

Dwells in his little village the Black Eobe chief ^ of the Mis- 
sion. 

Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and 
JesLis; 

Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as they 
hear him." 

Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline an- 
swered, — 1170 

" Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us! " 

Thither they turned their steeds; and behind a spur of the 
mountains. 

Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of voices. 

And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river. 

Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mis- 
sion. 1175 

Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the village, 

* a Jesuit priest, so called by the Iiuliaus because of his black dress. 



92 EVANGELINE : 

Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A crucifix 
fastened 

High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grape- 
vines. 

Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling be- 
neath it. 

This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate 
arches 1180 

Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers, 

Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus ' and sighs of the 
branches. 

Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer approach- 
ing, 

"Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening devo- 
tions. 

But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen 

Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the hands 
of the sower, 1186 

Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and bade 
them 

Welcome; and when tliey replied, he smiled with benignant 
expression, 

Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the 
forest. 

And, with words of kindness, conducted them into his wig- 
wam. 1190 

There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the 
maize-ear 

Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the 
teacher. 

Soon was their story told ; and the priest with solemnity an- 
swered : — 

" Not six sans have risen and set since Gabriel, seated 

On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes, 1195 

1 susurrus — literally, whispering. Note the alliteration and onomatopoeia. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 98 

Told me this same sad tale; then arose and continued his 
journey! " 

Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent 
of kindness; 

But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in Avinter the 
snow-flakes 

Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. 

'^Far to the north he has gone/' continued the priest; "but 
in autumn, 1200 

When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission." 

Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and submis- 
sive, 

" Let me remain Avitli thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." 

So seemed it wise and Avell unto all ; and betimes on the mor- 
row. 

Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and com- 
panions, 1205 

Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mis- 
sion. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, — 

Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that 
were springing 

Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now wav- 
ing about her. 

Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and form- 
ing 1210 

Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by 
squirrels. 

Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the 
maidens 

Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. 

But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the corn- 
field. 

Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover. 



94 EVANGELINE : 

^'Patience!" the priest would say; ^'have faith, and thy 

prayer will be answered ! 1216 

Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the 

meadow. 
See how its leaves are turned- to the north, as true as the mag- 
net; 
It is the compass-flower/ that the finger of God has sus- 
pended 
Here on its fragile stalk, to direct the traveller's journey 
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. 1221 
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion. 
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fra- 
grance. 
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is 



Only this humble j^lant '" can guide us here, and hereafter 
Crown us with asj^hodel ^ flowers, that are wet with the dews 
of nepenthe."' 1226 

So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter — yet Ga- 
briel came not; 
Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin and 

bluebird 
Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came 

not. 
But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted 
Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. 1231 
Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests, 
Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw River. 

1 a plant that grows in the American ^ a plant producing beautiful flowers, 
prairies, the leaves of which, it is said, point which, according to the ancient poets, 
due north and south, and are thus some- abound in the fields and meadows of the 
times useful to hunters or travellers as a regions of happiness in the next world, 
compass in enabling them to fix the direc- ■* a magic draught mentioned by Homer 
tion of their journey. and other ancient writers, which was sup- 

2 As the compass-flower is a guide to the posed to relieve pain and produce forgetful- 
traveller, so faith is theguide to the Christian, ucss of sorrow. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 96 

And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Law- 
rence, 
Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. 
When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches, 1236 
She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan forests, 
Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin! 

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and 
places 1239 

Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden ; — 
Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian Missions/ 
Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army, 
Now in secluded hamlets, in towns aud populous cities. 
Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremembered. 
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long jour- 
ney; 1245 
Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. 
Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty. 
Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the 

shadow. 
Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her 

forehead. 
Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly horizon. 
As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morn- 
ing. 1251 

V. 

In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's 
waters. 
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn ^ the apostle, 

1 Moravians, a religious body, also called 2 William Penn, a Quaker, the first colo- 

the United Brethren, which formed a sepa- nizer of the district named after him— Penn- 

rate church in Moravia, a district of Austria, sylvania (literally, Penn's forest country, 

about the middle of the fifteenth century, from the Latin sylva, a wood). Notice later 

The Moravians have been noted for their (11. 1256, 12.57) how the poet continues the 

missionary activity. thought of the forest. 



96 EVANGELINE I 

Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he 

founded/ 
There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of 
beauty, 1255 

And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the for- 
est/ 
As if they fain would ajipease the Dryads^ whose haunts they 

molested. 
There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, 
Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. 
There old Eene Leblanc had died; and when he departed. 
Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants. 1261 
Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city. 
Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a 

stranger; 
And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the 

Quakers, 
For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, 1265 

AVhere all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. 
So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor. 
Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplainiug. 
Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and 

her footsteps. 
As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning 
Eoll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, 1271 
Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets, 
So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far 

below her. 
Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the path- 
way 
Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the 
distance. 1275 

1 Philadelphia. ^ nymphs or goddesses of the woods. 

2 Manyof the streets of Philadelphia have According to ancient mythology every tree 
the names of trees, as Chestnut St., Spruce had its protecting divinity, who lived and 
St., Walnut St., etc died with the tree intrusted to her care. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 97 

Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image, 
Clothed in the beanty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, 
Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and ab- 
sence. 
Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. 
Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but trans- 
figured; 1280 
He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not 

absent ; 
Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, 
This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. 
So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, 
Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma. 
Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow 1286 
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour. 
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy '; frequenting 
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city. 
Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sun- 
light, 1290 
Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. 
Night after night when the world was asleep, as the watch- 
man repeated 
Loud, through the dusty streets, that all was well in the city,"'^ 
High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. 
Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the 
suburbs 1295 
Plodded the German farmer,^ with flowers and fruits for the 

market. 
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watch- 
ings. 

* a religious order of women in the Roman trolled at night by watchmen who called out 

Catholic Church, who devote themselves to the hours, at the same time crying, "All is 

attending and relieving the sick and the well." 

poor. 3 Germantown, now a part of Phila- 

2 In former times, before the regular or- delphia, was settled by Germans, 
ganization of police, city streets were pa- 

7 



9» EVANGELINE : 

Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city, 
Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wild 

pigeons. 
Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws 

but an acorn. 1300 

And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of September, 
Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the 

meadow. 
So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin. 
Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream of existence. 
Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the op- 
pressor; 1305 
But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger; — 
Only, alas ! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants. 
Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. 
Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows and 

woodlands; — 
Now the city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway and 

wicket 1310 

Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to echo 
Softly the words of the Lord: — '* ''J'he poor ye always have 

with you." ^ 
Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. The 

dying 
Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold there 
Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor. 
Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apostles, , 
Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance. 1317 
Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial, 
Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would enter. 

Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted andl 
silent, 1320 

Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. 

1 See Mark xiv. 7. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 99 

Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the gar- 
den, 
And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them, 
That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance 

and beauty. 
Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by 

the east-wind, 1325 

Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of 

Christ Church,^ 
AVhile, intermingled with these, across the meadows were 

wafted 
Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in their 

church at Wicaco. 
Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her 

spirit ; 
Something within her said, " At length thy trials are ended; " 
And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of 

sickness. 1331 

Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants. 
Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in 

silence 
Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing their 

faces. 
Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the 

roadside. 1335 

Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 
Turned on its pillow of Y)am to gaze while she passed, for her 

l^resence 
Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a 

prison. 
And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler. 
Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. 
Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night time; 
Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. 1342 

1 a Protestant Episcopal church in Philadelphia. 



100 EVANGELINE : 

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder. 

Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder 

Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped 
from her fingers, 1345 

And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the 
morning. 

Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible an- 
guish. 

That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. 

On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. 

Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his tem- 
ples; 1350 

But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment 

Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood; 

So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying. 

Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever. 

As if life, like the Hebrew,^ with blood had besprinkled its 
portals, 1355 

That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. 

Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhausted 

Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the 
darkness. 

Darkness of slumber and d.eath, forever sinking and sinking. 

Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverbera- 
tions, 1360 

Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that suc- 
ceeded 

Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saintlike, 

" Gabriel! my beloved! " and died away into silence. 

Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his child- 
hood ; 

Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them. 

Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under 
their shadow, 1366 

1 See Exodus xii. 22, 23. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 101 

As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. 

Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids, 

Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bed- 
side. 

Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unut- 
tered 1370 

Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue 
would have spoken. 

Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside 
him. 

Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. 

Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into 
darkness, 1374 

As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement. 

All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow. 
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing. 
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! 
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom. 
Meekly she bowed heiJK)wn, and murmured, ' ' Father, I thank 
thee!" 1380 



Still stands the forest primeval ' ; but far away from its 

shadow. 
Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping. 
Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard. 
In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed. 



1 Notice here how the poet recurs to the the contrast between the former comfort 

beginning: 11. 1381-1390 remind us of 11. 1-7; and easy happiness of the Acadians and the 

11. 1398, 1399 are almost the same as 11. 5, 6. misery wrought by their transportation. 

The purpose here is twofold : first, for the Some other things in the way Longfellow 

sake of a certain feeling of unity the poet developed his idea will be found indicated 

reverts to the original theme ; second, he is by the questions in d, p. 27. 



thereby enabled to bring out more strongly 



102 EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE. 

Daily tlie tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them. 
Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and 

forever, 1386 

Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. 
Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from 

their labors, 
Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their 

journey! 

Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its 

branches 1390 

Dwells another race, with other customs and language. 
Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic 
Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile 
Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. 
In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; 
Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of 

homespun, 1396 

And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, 
While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighboring 

ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the 

forest. 



WHAT PROMINENT EDUCATORS SAY 

OF THE 

STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES 



W. T. Harris, Commissioner of Education, Washington, D. C. " I 
have examined very carefully one of the abridgments from Walter Scott, 
and I would not have believed the essentials of the story could have been 
retained with so severe an abridgment. But the story thus abridged has 
kept its interest and all of the chief threads of the plot. I am very glad 
that the great novels of Walter Scott are in course of publication by your 
house in such a form that school children, and older persons as yet unfamiliar 
with Weaker Scott, may find an easy introduction. To read Walter Scott's 
novels is a large part of a liberal education, but his discourses on the history 
of the times and his disquisitions on motives render his stories too hard for 
the person of merely elementary education. But if one can interest himself 
in the plot, and skip these learned passages, he may, on a second reading, 
be able to grasp the whole novel. Hence I look to such abridgments as you 
have made for a great extension of Walter Scott's usefulness." 

Charles W. Eliot, President Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. 
"I have looked over your abbreviations of 'The Pilot' and 'The Spy,' 
and think them very well adapted to grammar school use. I should think 
the principle might be applied to novels which have no historical setting, 
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the series have struck out a new line in the preparation of literature for 
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STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES. 



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A. E. Winship, Editor ''Journal of Education,^' Boston, Mass. *' I 
desire to acknowledge, after many days, the volumes ' Kenilworth ' and 
' Harold,' in the Standard Literature Series. I am much pleased with these 
books. It is a great service which you are rendering the schools. Our 
children must read all the British-American classics which have any bearing 
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make it possible, here, for the child to get all he needs of each of all the 
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C. B. Gilbert, Superintejtdent of Schools, Newark, N.J. " The 
Standard Literature Series bids fair to prove a most valuable addition to 
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edited, and supplied with valuable notes and maps. ' Harold, the Last of 
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vivid picture of early England; its struggles and its people. The Introduc- 
tion paves the way for what is to follow. The portions omitted can be 
spared, and the notes are just enough to clear up difficult passages, but not 
enough to be burdensome." 

R. E. Denfeld, Superintendent of Schools, Duluth, Minn. " I have 
carefully read many of the numbers of the Standard Literature Series and do 
not hesitate to say that they are exceptionally well edited. One in partic- 
ular I have in mind which was so carefully condensed as to make it of 
convenient size for a school reading book, and yet no part of the essentially 
connected matter was omitted." 

Henry R. Sanford, Institute Conductor for New York Stale, Penn 
Yan, N'. Y. " You are doing a good thing in thus giving to the public 
cheap editions of standard literature." 

W^. H. Hockenberry, Superintendent, Chanibersburg, Pa. " ' The 
Spy,' for school use, is so condensed and supplied with useful notes as to 
make it a good book for supplementary reading in schools." 



STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES. 



Henry A. Wise, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Baltimore, Md. 
" I write to thank you for a copy of * Horse-Shoe Robinson ' sent for my 
examination. I have frequently recommended this book to the children 
studying the Revolutionary period of our history, as excellent supplementary 
reading matter, and I am glad that your house has seen fit to put it in this 
shape for the use of the schools. I have shown the book to several of our 
principals, who highly approve of its use in the schools. I think the editors 
have reduced the size with good judgment, decreasing the size, while 
sacrificing little, if anything, material. 

Chas. M. Jordan, Superintendent, Minneapolis, Minn. " I have 
examined them carefully so far as the books have been issued, and it seems 
to me that they are worthy of hearty commendation, and will do good work 
in the public schools.'* 

W. D. Parker, President State Normal School, River Falls, Wis. " I 
am of the opinion that the mechanics of the books, the exclusions of matter, 
and the selection of topics for notes, mark a departure that gains for pupil 
and teacher." 

W. S. Dudley, School Commissioner, Cuthbert, Ga. " The Standard 
Literature Series received. I am delighted with them." 

Mrs. Anna D. Pollard, Plantsville, Conn. " It is just what we want." 

J. G. Crabbe, Superintendent, Ashland, Ky. " It [' The Spy'] is one 
of the very best books of its kind that I have seen, and is admirably adapted 
to school work. We shall always be glad to use such books." 

Prof. W. H. Keister, Harrisonburg, Va. "I am much pleased 
with the Literature Series and am thinking strongly of introducing the series 
in my Intermediate and Grammar Grades." 

J. W. Freese, Washingtoti School, Cambridgeport, Mass. " It seems 
to me that they are sure to make their way in the schools. " 

E. F. Eddins, Palmerville, N. C "Allow me to testify to the won- 
derful perfection of your Standard Literature Series. I have been teaching 
ten years and I do not hesitate to say that your publication is the best of the 
kind I have ever seen. I shall introduce it as soon as practicable." 

F. T. Oldt, Superintendent, Dubuque, Iowa. " The effort to bring 
standard literature within the reach of all is most commendable. This can 
be done only through the schools, and by the aid of cheap editions in 
attractive form. I like your edition, and hope to make a few selections." 

A. W. Tressler, Superintendent, Monroe, Mich. " I have found them 
well printed, nicely bound and very cheap. We shall be able to use some 
of them another year." 



STANDARD LITERA TURE SERIES. 



M. A. Whitney, Superintendent, Ypsilanti, Mich. " I am much 
pleased with the Standard Literature Series." 

Martin Bergen, Superintendent, Camden, N. J. "I think these books 
should be introduced in our schools." 

O. C. Seelye, Superintendent, Racine, Wis. *' From a casual exam- 
ination I judge they form a very convenient series for use as supplementary 
reading and literature classes of the High School." 

Sherman Williams, Superintendent, Glens Falls, N. Y. " It seems 
to me that it is much superior to any other of the cheap series that I have 
seen. It must have a large sale, as must the whole series, if you continue so 
fine a work with such low price." 

H. E. Kratz, Superintendent, Sioux City, Iowa. "I heartily commend 
your plan of presenting in cheap form this better class of literature. You 
have succeeded in making a very readable book in the condensed form that 
you present it." 

J. L. Holloway, Superintendent, Fort Smith, Ark. " The reduction 
of these standards by eliminations that do not destroy the plot of the story 
nor weaken its continuity, thereby enabling them to be used to advantage in 
the course of reading — is a most excellent idea. The matter, style, and 
quality of binding and price, are all that one could ask. I sincerely con- 
gratulate you on this advanced step toward putting these standards within 
reach of young people." 

H. J. Wightman, Superintendent, Vineland, N. J. *' I am glad to 
see works of this character condensed and still containing the beautiful and 
fascinating. I have long desired such material for reading." 

F. J. Sessions, Superintendent, Waterloo, Iowa. "I think your plan 
most excellent and feel that your Standard Literature Series will find a large 
place awaiting it. The notes and helps are good, the print choice, and the 
binding, though cheap, is durable enough for the purpose of the books." 

O. E. French, Superintendetit , Creston, Iowa. " I am much pleased 
with your plan of issuing such standard works at very reasonable rates." 

F. J. Barnard, City Superintendent of Schools, Seattle, Wash. " I 
think them well adapted for the use intended." 

H. F. Fehlandt, Superintendent, Port Washington, Wis. " It will 
give me much pleasure to acquaint our teachers with the merits of the excel- 
lent books at our next meeting." 

Ed-ward H. McLachlin, Superintendent, South Hadley Falls, Mass. 
'' The Standard Literature Series are splendid books for supplementary 
reading. " 



STANDARD LITERATURE SERIES. 



Alfred Turner, Superintendent, Rutland, Vt. "It is a mystery how 
you people get out such a good book for so little money." 

J. W. Babcock, Superintendent, Dunkirk, N. Y. "I like the plan 
of the work very much." 

O. E. Smith, Superintendent, Des Moines, Iowa. " This is a great 
work you are doing. Many of the choicest things in the English language 
are not read because of the prolixity of the authors. You are sifting out the 
chaff and giving the young people — and old ones, too — the choice wheat. 
In this you are a public benefactor." 

Henry Newton, Principal of Butler Graded Free School, Butler, Ky. 
" Have used No. i, ' Spy,' with most gratifying results." 

Richard H. Lewis, Principal, Dr. Lewis's School, Kinston, N. C. 
"It [' I.ady of the Lake '] is a model of a book, and most elegantly adapted 
for study." 

John D. Meese, Professor of English Literature, South- We stern State 
Normal School, California, Pa. " The students in my senior class are now 
using No. 9 of the Standard Literature Series. It is needless to say that 
they are delighted with the clear print and clean pages which mark every 
number of this series. The notes are judicious and easy of reference. The 
price of each book is merely nominal. I shall use other numbers of this 
series during the present school year." 

G. A. Grimsley, Superintendejit, Greensboro, N. C. "I have examined 
them carefully and am very much pleased with them." 

A. C. Fleshman, Superintendent, Winchester, Ky. "Am well 
pleased with them." 

Edward P. Moses, Winthrop Normal and Industrial College, Rock 
Hill, S. C. " Your plan of presenting abridgments of famous works which 
are too long for busy men now-a-days to read, seems to me to be a most 
excellent one." 

T. M. Games, Superintendent, Vanceburg, Ky. "Your specimen copy 
of Standard Literature Series has been duly received and carefully noted. 
I like it very much, indeed, and think I shall be in a position to furnish you 
a fine order in the near future. It is what I have been looking for, exactly." 

Homer Wright, Superintendent of Schools, Dawson, Ga. " Copies of 
your excellent series of Standard Literature received. How they do delight 
the children! " 

D. R. Knight, Superintendent of Schools, Wallingford, Conn. " It is 
an excellent series for supplementary reading, and we are using several 
numbers." 



STANDARD LITER A TURK SERIES. 



J. J Chickering, Superintendent of Schools, Elushing, N. Y, " They 
are well gotten up, in a form both attractive and, considering the price, 
durable, and should be a success. They are an excellent idea, and I have 
recommended them to both teachers and High School pupils." 



UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

43-47 East JOth Street, New York 



Modern Readers for Graded Schools. 

Davis' Beg-inner's Readings Book 
Davis' Second Reading Book* 
Davis' Third Reading Book. 
Davis' Fourth Reading Book. 

These books present the ' ' Thought Method ** or ** Sentence 
Method " of teaching reading, and are the only Readers prepared 
especially on that plan. The author is Supt. Eben H. Davis» 
of Chelsea, Mass. 



Natural Science in Simple Storie& 

Holmes' New First Reader. 
Holmes' New Second Reader. 
Holmes' New Third Reader. 
Holmes' New Fourth Reader. 
Holmes' New Fifth Reader. 

These books are most beautifully illustrated and wonderfully 
attractive. Interesting facts about plant and animal life are 
woven into charming stories, well graded, and so judiciously in- 
terspersed with other reading matter as not to become monotonous. 
As leading Readers, or for supplemental reading, they are 
unsurpassed. 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING CO., 

NEW YORK: 
43, 45, 47 East lOth Street. 

NEW ORLEANS: BOSTON: 

7 1 4-7 1 6 Canal Street. 352 Washington Street. 



SUPPLEMENTARY READING. 

Standard Literature Series 

Works of standard authors — selections or abridgments — for use in 
schools, with introductory and explanatory notes. Single numbers, in 
stiff paper sides, 64 to 128 pages, 13^ cents; double numbers, 160 to 224 
pages, 20 cents. In cloth, 20 cents and 30 cents. 

No. 1 (Single). THE SPY, ~ - - - By J. Fenimore Cooper. 
" 3(Double). THE PILOT, - - - By J. Fenimore Cooper. 
" 3 (Single). ROB ROY, - - - - By Sir Walter Scott. 
" 4(Single). THE ALHAMBRA, - By Washington Irving. 
" 5(Single). CHRISTMAS STORIES. By Charles Dickens. 
" 6 (Single). ENOCH ARDEN and Other Poems, 

By Alfred Lord Tennyson. 
'' 7(DoubIe). KENILWORTH, - - By Sir Walter Scott. 
" 8 (Double). THE DEERSLAYER, By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

• 9 (Double). LADY OF THE LAKE, By Sir Walter Scott. 
" 10 (Double). HORSE-SHOE ROBINSON, By John P. Kennedy. 
" ll(Single). THE PRISONER OF CHILLON and Other Poems 

^ By Lord Byron. 

" 13 (Double). HAROLD, - - - By Sir E. Bulwer-Lytton. 
•' 13(Single). GULLIVER'S TRAVELS, By Jonathan Swift. 
" 14(Single). PAUL DOM BEY, - By Charles Dickens. 

" 15(Single). TWICE-TOLD TALES, By Nath'l Hawthorne. 
" 16(Slngle). A WONDER-BOOK, - By Nath'l Hawthorne. 
" 17 (Single). THE SKETCH BOOK, By Washington Irving. 

" 18 (Double). NINETY-THREE. By Victor Hugo. 

'' 19mouble).TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST, 

By Richard H. Dana, Jr. 
" 20 (Single). THE SNOW IMAGE, Etc., By Nath'l Hawthorne. 
" 31(Single). EVANGELINE, - - By H. W. Longfellow. 
" 33 (Single). LITTLE NELL, - - By Charles Dickens. 



The Golden-Rod Books 

Contain choice children's literature, selected and adapted from a wide 
range of well-known writers, and graded to supplement First, Second. 
Third, and Fourth Readers with reading of an interesting character. 
Illustrated. These are- the titles : 

I. RHYMES AND FABLES, - - 64 pages, 1 2 cents. 

II. SONGS AND STORIES, - - - 96 pages, 1 5 cents. 

III. FAIRY LIFE, _____ 1 28 pages, 20 cents. 

IV. BALLADS AND TALES, - - 1 60 pages, 25 cents. 



BD 



On these an^the Standard Literature Series special 
O ftsODunts to schools and dealers. 



Correspondence is invited. Address 

UNIVERSITY PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

43-47 E. Tenth Street, New York. 








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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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